Michael stopped, bowed his head, then looked at her. “Did I say all that?"
He gently glided his hand through her hair, against the back of her neck. He leaned closer placing his other hand against her cheek.
"Obnoxious, wasn't I?"
Lillian smiled, nodded her head ‘yes.'
"Do you think you could forgive me for acting like such a jerk?"
"I suppose I could, considering...."
"Considering what?"
"How handsome you look tonight, not the least bit obnoxious."
Michael smiled. “Good."
He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. They embraced for a moment and continued to walk through the town enjoying their first date.
* * * *
Lillian had the best week ever at work. She continually thought about her date with Michael and how perfect it was. Then the battle began between feeling good about dating Michael and the worry of getting too close. Feeling a little fearful again, she hadn't returned any of his calls the last couple of days, last night, or this morning. To add to it she just kept thinking about what Carla's reaction would be and questioning Michael's desire or even capabilities of getting serious. Lillian wasn't one for casual relationships. The fact he started to ask questions about her family, her childhood, wasn't exactly making her feel comfortable. She could only change the subject so many times before Michael would become suspicious.
The intensity of their kissing, touching, and desires was beginning to reach that point where stopping became difficult. She was scared, there was no use in denying it. The pressure was on. The urge to run seemed the best solution. She knew this time would eventually come, but she thought she would be able to handle it better. Yet now, faced with it, she failed. She could only avoid seeing Michael for so long. When she did, she would have to resist the urge, the desire, to consummate their relationship. Consummate their relationship? Where the hell did that come from? I want the man so damn much, it's driving me crazy. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't concentrate. All I do is think about him. Damn it!
Lillian swore aloud, then tried to focus on parking the car. She was in deep thought about Michael. His sense of humor, his cologne, his seductive tactics made her body melt on cue. He was the whole package. Her body knew it, her heart knew it, but her mind reminded her of the danger. Snapping out of it and back to reality, she got out of the car.
Lillian had left early this morning to attend a luncheon in New York City for bookstores, publishers, and library personnel and had just returned around five thirty. Tired and hungry, her mind then spinning with ideas about all the business connections she made, she entered through the front entrance of Lillian's Love.
"Lillian, Michael has been looking for you. It sounded important. How did the luncheon go?” Aunt Mabel asked.
"Great. I know Michael has been calling me. I'll call him back later. Right now, I want to go change and relax a little. My feet are killing me.” Lillian headed up the stairs.
"Well, you go rest. We'll close up the store tonight,” Aunt Mabel added as she and Justin watched Lillian go.
Lillian closed the door, kicked off her black-heeled sandals and headed to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of red wine. Leaning against the counter, she closed her eyes welcoming the first sip.
"Mondavi ... mmmm.” She felt the smooth, dry substance flow down her throat all the way to her belly. She licked her lips as she placed the glass onto the counter.
She turned on her stereo, soon the sounds of Italian opera filled the apartment. A half a glass a wine later, she finally started to relax a little when she heard the knock at the door.
She should have known better than to think her aunt would just leave things alone. She probably wanted to talk. Lillian just wanted to relax.
She straightened out the short, black one-piece linen dress, then ran her fingers through her hair.
* * * *
"Wow, you look incredible. Don't tell me you've been out on a date with someone else?” Michael asked, standing in the doorway.
Lillian immediately noticed the firearm, holster, handcuffs, and badge that sat on his hip. The dress slacks he wore complimented the beige, button down dress shirt. He looked so damn sexy, her heart leaped. She wanted to run like hell.
"Aren't you going to ask me to come in?” He entered her apartment as she stood to the side to let him pass before closing the door behind him.
Lillian stood to the side immediately feeling embarrassed by her bare feet. She glanced down reassuring herself of the fact her manicure from yesterday remained vibrant.
Michael walked into the apartment scanning the room.
"A glass of red wine, a sexy dress, classy music, do you have a hot date or something?” he teased, in an interrogating, typical cop way that made her heart leap. He attempted to remain serious, yet intimidating, leaning against the doorframe that led to the kitchen.
His flirtatious cocky grin caused Lillian's belly to flutter.
"No, I don't have a hot date, Michael. I've had a busy day, lousy trip back home from the city. The traffic was ridiculous. My head is spinning with numerous ideas for the store, the new contacts I made, and future events to plan. I almost wished I had stayed home instead of attending.” She walked toward the kitchen to retrieve her glass of red wine—to escape her desire to jump him right there in the entranceway of her kitchen.
"Would you like some or are you still on duty?” she asked as she eyed his weapon.
"No, I'm off. I'll take a glass."
Lillian turned to retrieve another wine glass.
* * * *
Michael noticed Lillian seemed a bit tired. The edginess in her tone warned him to be on guard. He wanted to pull her into his arms, take her to the couch, and let her rest against him. He glanced down at her bare feet, nicely manicured then further up and over the curves of her body. She wasn't wearing small-heeled sandals, or high heels to make her appear taller. Instead, she stood in the kitchen petite, feminine. His heart raced.
He noticed Lillian's hand shaking as she tried to pour the wine from the bottle. He assumed he made her nervous or perhaps she was up to something after all. The thought of her with another man brought on an instant feeling of jealousy. He broke the distance between them.
He placed his hands on Lillian's shoulders. He felt her body tense at his touch.
"Let me help you. You're shaking. Driving in heavy traffic when you're tired can be stressful."
Michael filled the glass.
"To us.” He took a sip from the glass as Lillian looked away.
He sighed, suddenly filled with a bad gut feeling.
"So let's have it. What's the deal? You're avoiding me suddenly.” He moved across from her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter just a few feet away.
"I'm not avoiding you, Michael."
Lillian put her glass down, turning away from him, breaking eye contact, looking toward the cabinets. In an instant, Michael put his glass down to place his arms around her waist. Now, his chest lay flush against the back of her shoulders.
He leaned his mouth against her shoulder, kissing the small area of bare skin.
"I had a good time the other night. You told me you had a good time, too. I don't think, we're going too fast, but if you do, we can, slow things down a bit. Just talk to me, doll. Tell me what's wrong?” he whispered, scattering kisses against her skin.
Lillian rolled her head back against Michael's chest. He braced the counter, pressed his body against hers.
She turned her head sideways. He caught her lips with his own, enjoying the taste of wine and passion entwined.
They kissed deeper. Their desire, their mutual attraction, led the way.
Michael rubbed his hands across the linen material against Lillian's belly, making his way to her breasts. He clasped one in his hand.
Instantly, Lillian covered Michael's hand with her own.
Michael's lips released hers as he turned Lillian's body toward hi
m, looking down into her eyes. The desire was apparent in her gaze, a silent acceptance that the intensity and need was like no other before it.
Michael needed to be sure, needed to know Lillian trusted him, believed in their attraction and desire to be one.
"Don't do this to me. Don't keep pushing me away like this. I can't take it anymore. I can't get you out of my mind, Lilly. I want you."
He didn't allow her to answer, to try to deny the mutual emotions out of fear, bad experience, or worse. He wanted to destroy every ounce of fear she had, any thoughts that he wasn't serious about them. He would be victorious in doing so.
His lips were once again over hers, devouring, conquering every quiver, every attempt to depart. He cradled her head with one hand as his other hand rubbed her thigh, pushing up the hem of her dress. Pleased she wore no stockings, his hand caressed the tone, solidity of her thighs. Continuing his path up to her hipbone and surprised at the feel of a thin string that served little purpose and covered very little, he continued on his mission.
* * * *
Lillian tried to process her thoughts. She wanted Michael so badly, and wanted to take a chance. Just go for it. The battle began between logic and sexual desire. Would it be so bad to make love to him, have him know her so well, so intimately? Could she trust him with everything she had? Could she give him her heart, her body, including her soul? That's what she would be giving him ... everything.
Michael scooped Lillian up into his arms. She instantly felt the muscles through his shirt, the firearm on his hip.
She inhaled suddenly recalling his injured arm.
"Your arm, Michael—"
He smirked at her confidently.
She could see the desire in his eyes, could feel every ounce of her own sprinting through her body in a continuous flow as they headed toward her bedroom.
She watched him as he took in their surroundings. He was in her bedroom. They were going to do this. There was no turning back after today. The fear set in, she swallowed hard contemplating running once he set her down.
He glanced around the room. His gaze moved back across Lillian once he placed her back onto her feet. They stood by the queen-sized bed, bold yet feminine in its Victorian décor.
He stared into her eyes, pulling the holster and gun from his hip to place them on the bedside table. Once more, Lillian thought about running but she thought more about having Michael's hands touch her again. It was funny, but the second he let go of her to remove his firearm, she felt alone and incomplete.
Lillian never took her eyes off him. She found strength, security, and hope in Michael's eyes and touch. She wanted to remember this moment, the look of passion and want in his eyes while he slowly, unzipped her dress.
She absorbed the silence of the room. Her breathing slow and shallow, spiked the second she felt the linen material fall to the floor and Michael took in the full sight of her.
She wore a black strapless bra with similar matching bottoms. She knew neither covered much of her skin. She prayed that her body appealed to him.
Michael smiled wide as Lillian reached toward him, unfastening the buttons on his shirt while his hands glided over her skin. He attempted to pull her closer but she wanted to remove his shirt, see his body. He removed it, her gaze drawn to the muscles and the tattoo on his chest.
* * * *
There was a knife, a gun bordering an American flag.
The words “Made In the U.S.M.C.” stood out in bold lettering below the flag. The tattoo almost matched the one on his left bicep. She glided her fingers across the tattoo on his arm. The fierce-looking animal wrapped in an American flag, holding some kind of intense gun in one hand, a hunting knife in another, with straps of bullets along his chest, stared back at her. The intensity in the animal's eyes matched Michael's and it was enough to cause goose bumps to emerge below her skin. Just under it were the letters U.S.M.C.
She continued to look him over just as he had done to her. She could have sworn she saw him blush. His tanned, muscular chest combined with the scars from his most recent wounds, stirred an emotion deep inside her. Perfect physical condition, lean, cut stomach, each muscle uniquely defined. Her imagination about his experience caused her to feel nervous. That nervousness, combined with her body's response, made her want him more.
He seemed to see it in her eyes as he gently caressed her thigh with his hand before moving toward her inner thigh. He continued to caress her body in search of precisely what he wanted.
Lillian placed her hand against Michael's neck, pulling him closer, kissing him deeply.
He squirmed out of his pants, their lips parting only for a moment. Lillian looked down, noting his Calvin Klein briefs acknowledging his sense of style, sophistication, and the fact that he found it important to dress fashionable from head to toe. That was something they shared in common.
Once again, he pulled her body against his, covered her lips with his appearing to try his hardest to hold out as long as possible.
Their hands continued to touch one another, fondle, grope, and caress every inch of their bodies. A pattern of slow and gentle then fast and furious continued in sequence.
Finally, they rapidly removed the remaining clothing, leaving nothing behind.
Michael scooped Lillian up, gently laid her down on the bed, and began to explore every inch of her. He started from her toes, making his way to her head, discovering every curve, beauty mark, with his mouth, his tongue.
Lillian squirmed with enjoyment, attempting to stop him from continuing his journey, using such a seductive, powerful weapon. She held her breath as he made his way between her thighs, being thorough, precise in his strategy, but she just couldn't take it.
She let out a moan, a slight scream, then laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.
Michael paused to smile at her. His eyebrows lifted in surprise at her sudden outburst.
Lillian felt the heat rush to her face.
"You're incredible."
Michael gently took her wrists, kissed each one before placing her arms above her head. Her body wiggled with every sensation. Goose bumps followed the path of his tongue as he crossed her belly. He tapped her hands, gazed seductively into her eyes, a silent signal to keep her arms where they were. He continued to seduce her, allowing his fingers to prepare for his next move.
He paused and Lillian inhaled instantly concerned that he may have changed his mind or something was wrong until their gazes locked. Michael had noticed the small red heart, hidden below her hipbone.
A tattoo!
He was surprised as he raised his eyebrows.
"Very nice and well hidden,” he added, winking before proceeding.
Slowly, as not to rush the momentous move, they became one.
Exhaling simultaneously, their bodies molded together, their gazes locked, he smiled at her and all the fear, anxiety and worry disappeared.
* * * *
A good hour had passed. The smell of homemade biscotti filled the air.
"Oh, my gosh, I nearly forgot. I should get dressed. Go help downstairs. There's a book club meeting tonight. Kelly might need some help.” Lillian rambled on as she attempted to get up, but Michael stopped her, gently pulling her back against his chest.
"Why are you always trying to run away from me? Don't worry about it. They can handle it, Lillian. More importantly, I'm not through with you yet."
"Michael, I have to go check on—"
"No, you don't. Your aunt said she had it under control, that I should help you relax after your stressful day in the city."
"My aunt.... Oh, my God, she didn't? You mean they know you're up here with me? Oh, God!” Lillian rolled over to her side, placing the pillow over her head.
Now her aunt and her employees would know she and Michael were involved. Intimately involved. There would be no use in denying it. Next, Carla would find out, Jimmy, Uncle Phillip, everyone.
Michael started laughing. Leaning on his elbow, he pulled the pillo
w off Lillian's head. She immediately pulled the sheets back up over her chest.
"Don't laugh, Michael. This isn't funny. Everyone is going to know about us. Now what do we do?"
"I have a few ideas.” He traced her shoulder bone with his finger.
Lillian giggled as he continued to tickle her.
He began kissing her neck, her shoulder, then chest when suddenly he disappeared under the sheets.
Lillian heard her own laughter fill the room. Michael stopped and peeked out from under the sheets.
"I have to ask, Lillian ... I'm shocked you have a tattoo in such a delicate place."
"It's not what you think, Michael."
"Oh, no?” he teased as he pulled off the sheets, exposing Lillian's body, trailing his fingers across her torso, kissing her hipbone, before gazing into her eyes.
She rubbed her fingers through his hair, pulled his face toward her, kissing his lips.
"I was eighteen, stupid, hanging out with a bunch of my friends, who thought it would be cool to get a tattoo. Everyone tried to outdo the next person with the location they picked. They picked some ridiculous things, big ones no less."
She trailed her finger across the small heart while she recalled the circumstances of that day.
"Now, no one said what size or where it had to be, just that we had to do it. I went last, shocking them all, especially the young guy who did the work."
"That had to be pretty painful, because even this one on my arm hurt. I couldn't imagine getting a tattoo where yours is."
"I had to get it somewhere where only I could see it. I couldn't let my parents find out about it."
Michael kissed Lillian's hipbone again, then the small red heart. He remained silent a moment as if trying to register his feelings.
They caught one another's gazes but stayed silent.
Michael looked back down toward the heart, then back at Lillian.
"So ... how many people know about this tattoo?” He gently glided his finger across it.
Lillian giggled.
"Forget it. You don't have to answer that, Lillian. I have no right to be jealous,” he added quickly.
"Michael, you're the ... second man I've been intimate with, so let's leave it at that."
Lillian's Love Page 8
