Disenchanted

by L. D. Davis

Marco reached for my hand. I thought he was just going to hold it, but I jolted when he placed it on the seam of his jeans and held it there. His hips rose slowly, pressing himself against my palm.

  “Does that answer your question?” With what seemed like a great effort, judging by the grimace on his face, he removed my hand and held it against his chest. “I do want you, Lydia, but I do not want you to think that is all I have wanted all this time. You have implied many times that is the man you think I am. Maybe that has been true with some other women in my past, but that is not true when it comes to you. Even if I was willing to go further, I did not bring anything with me. I did not want to give you the wrong impression and have a condom fall out of my wallet while we were out today.”

  His answer was perfect and sweet, which made me feel like a slut face, because my body was still lit, still on fire from all the kissing and touching and grinding. I threw an arm over my eyes and attempted some even breaths through my nose with the hopes that I would be able to cool down the inferno in my body.

  When I felt Marco’s finger trace a hard tip through my shirt, I practically jumped out of my skin. As I uncovered my eyes and looked at him, his fingers pinched together, and I groaned.

  “I won’t make love to you tonight, but I can make you feel good, Tesoro.”

  He kissed me, brief, but deep and hard.

  “I will take care of you,” he murmured as his fingers began to release the button on my jeans.

  I started to pant with anticipation and need as he took his time, teasing me with how slowly he moved. When his hand slid into under my panties, I whimpered and lifted my hips.

  “Eager,” he teased and kissed me again and then groaned as he cupped my sex. “Oh, Tesoro. You are so warm and ready.”

  The words stopped there. As Marco’s fingers began to circle on the hard bundle of nerves, I became fascinated by the hand that moved under my panties. Every other breath was a gasp of pleasure as my eyes darted from his face to what was happening between my thighs. Maybe it was because it had been a long time, or maybe it was just that good, but I felt like I’d never been as turned on as I was in that moment. It wasn’t just what was being done to me, but who was doing it to me.

  Two thick fingers slipped inside me. My moans grew louder as I clutched his arm, and my hips found a rhythm with his fingers.

  I met his eyes and held his gaze as I neared my peak. Marco was breathing just as heavily, even though he went untouched. I ground against his hand, squeezed his arm, and stared into his eyes and then…

  Just as I began to climax and cry out, he kissed me. Deep. Hard. Relentlessly. Swallowing my muffled shrieks. The only air I had to breathe came from his lungs. My body jacked wildly off the bed as he continued to stroke me with his thumb and his fingers moved inside me.

  As my orgasm subsided, we stopped kissing. I tried to catch my breath, but Marco continued to push his fingers in and out of my core.

  “I can’t believe how wet you are.” There was carnal hunger and awe in his blue eyes.

  I watched with a rebirth of desire as he carefully pulled his fingers out of my body, out of my panties, and brought them to his mouth. His eyes closed on a groan as he sucked my essence from his fingers. When his lids slowly opened and he narrowed in on my face, I knew from the animalistic gaze in those eyes that I would not be getting any sleep for a while. Possibly, for the whole night.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When I woke in the morning, I was alone in my bed. For a few painful moments, I felt a sense of abandonment and wondered if anything he’d said yesterday—or ever—was bullshit. That was the marred woman in me, though. The woman who’d had years of disappointments and hurt from a man she had expected to love her back. She—I—was quick to believe the worst, but I heard his voice from another part of the house. He was still there. Marco hadn’t gone anywhere.

  I got out of bed, wrapped my naked body in a robe and headed out to find him. I was surprised by how much I wanted to see him, and even more surprised that I hadn’t freaked out about last night. Then again, as emotionally unstable as I was, that could happen anytime.

  As I passed through the family room, I saw immediately that Marco had taken the fort down. I smiled as I thought about us, two grown ass adults, sitting in something children build on a rainy day, coloring and eating junk food and watching cartoons. It had been easy to be with him in there, and it’d been easier than I expected to be with him afterward in my bed. There was an uncomfortable pinch of fear in my heart, though, because nothing in life came easy without a price.

  I followed Marco’s voice to the kitchen. A laptop was open on the table, along with some blueprints and a stack of papers in an open folder. He must’ve had all of it in the back of his car, just in case. The man himself paced the kitchen as he talked into his cell phone, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that hung low and sexily on his hips.

  As I stared at his body, I wondered what a beautiful man like him wanted from a woman like me. I was physically and emotionally broken, while he was fit in body, mind, and soul. Maybe it was the damsel in distress thing. Maybe he thought he could fix me.

  Before I could go too deeply into my thoughts, he took notice of me. Smiling, he held up one finger, indicating that I should give him a minute. It took another two minutes before he was off the phone, but I took that time to make myself a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek before he went to the table and began to pack up his stuff. “How is the coffee? Did I make it to your liking?”

  “It’s great. Thank you.”

  He winked at me, which made me feel rather dopey. “Someday, I will give you real caffè.”

  “It’s to my understanding that Italians don’t put milk or cream in their coffee. So, I’m not sure if I really want your caffè. I like mine creamy and sweet.”

  His brows rose high, and he gave me a heated appraisal up and down my body that literally made my toes curl on the cool tile.

  “I like mine creamy and sweet, too, cara la mia donna sexy, but I am not talking about coffee.”

  I gave him an inviting smile over the top of my mug. His eyes heated, and he started toward me, but the phone rang on the wall behind him. It surprised him. Not many people still had landlines. When he did an about-face and walked toward it, I thought he was just going to see who was calling, to let me know if it would be worth it to let the call go to voicemail so that he could do whatever it was he was going to do when he reached me. However, when he peered back at me over his shoulder with a glint in his eye, I grew wary.

  “Buon giorno mia bellissima signora. Come stai?” he said, answering my phone.

  He would’ve only answered my phone for one person, and the rapid-fire Italian that commenced after he’d chuckled at the caller confirmed that it was my sister, Lily. I frowned. I hadn’t told her I’d been talking to Marco since I’d left Philly. There would be a lot of questions, and if I knew her, she would dig deep to find the answers. I wasn’t even sure if I had all the answers to the questions I knew she would ask.

  When Marco passed me the phone, I punched him in his side, but he only laughed at me and went back to the table.

  Lily was still laughing when I put the phone to my ear. “Why are you always taking my sloppy seconds?” I knew she was just teasing, but I couldn’t help feeling a little guilty.

  “Trust me, there’s nothing sloppy about him.”

  “So, what is Marco doing there? When did this happen? Did he kiss you yet?” The next question was whispered. “Isn’t he a phenomenal kisser?”

  “Uh,” I started, throwing a glance at the man in question. He was already sidetracked, his brow furrowed as he tapped on his computer. “It’s not serious.”

  “I didn’t ask you if it was serious.”

  I kept my voice low as I walked out of the kitchen with the cordless to the formal living room at the front of the house, just to have a few minutes of privacy. “Well, you asked a hell of a lot of quest
ions, and that is the only answer I have for you. How are you feeling?”

  She sighed at my evasion but stopped grilling me. We talked for about ten minutes before I noticed the time. I had no idea when my mom would be home, but I did have a few things I needed to get done before Shawna and Cliff brought the kids home. When I went back to the kitchen, Marco was just slipping his laptop into a bag, and his papers and files were already out of sight.

  He watched me as I topped off my mug. My lips lifted a bit, but his return smile was a little reserved compared to only a few minutes ago. It made me anxious and reminded me too much of Gavin’s ability to be hot one minute and cold the next.

  I leaned against the counter and waited warily.

  “Why do you look like that?” Marco asked quietly.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you are waiting for me to…I don’t know. It is as if you are waiting for me to…hurt you.”

  I tried to relax my shoulders, tried to relax in general, but it was hard to do. He was right. I was waiting for him to hurt me. Not physically, but I was waiting for him to say something or to do something that would make me feel like shit.

  I tried to stand straight and not let my eyes wander from his. “Well, are you?”

  He was silent for several beats before he answered. “Yesterday I promised you I would never hurt you on purpose. Do you not believe me, Lydia?”

  I put my coffee down on the counter and pretended to busy myself with wiping up invisible messes. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay. I guess that is fair. I can only uphold that promise by proving it. Can you please look at me?”

  Hesitantly, I dropped the dishrag I’d been using to scrub the counter and turned back to face him. I wrapped my arms around myself again as I waited for him to say whatever he had to say. His eyes darted to my arms across my stomach, but he didn’t comment on that.

  “I heard you tell your sister it isn’t serious. Was that about us?” My face must’ve given it away, because he didn’t give me an opportunity to produce words as he began to walk to me. “I hope that isn’t what you really believe, Lydia. You should know that I am entirely serious.”

  My hair was a mess, but he still seemed to very much enjoy pushing it off my face and tucking it behind my ear. Honestly, I very much enjoyed it, too.

  “What are you serious about?” I whispered.

  “About you.” He kissed my left cheek. “About me.” He kissed my right cheek. “About us.” He kissed me on the lips. It was short and sweet, but full of promise of things to come. “I am only going to say this once more, Lydia. What you wrote on that list is not me. It is not you when you are with me. It is not us. This”—he gestured between us—“is you and me. That tent in the middle of your family room, your flying turd, and when your claws are out and you are trying to tear my eyes out, those are all us. I want my own chance. I do not want to go forward based on someone else’s actions and inactions.”

  “My dragonfly is effing beautiful,” I declared, even as my body tingled from his words.

  Marco laughed. “Yes, Tesoro. Just like you.”

  He leaned in for another kiss but stopped just before his lips touched mine.

  “I know you are afraid. Don’t tell anyone, but…” He glanced about covertly, which made the corners of my mouth lift. “I am afraid, too. I am afraid I am going to fall in love with you and you are going rip my heart out and spit on it.”

  Hell, my own heart felt like it was about to burst, but I managed to respond. “I would never spit on it. That wouldn’t be sanitary.”

  I felt his affection and amusement in another kiss.

  Marco left soon after that, with the promise of returning in the afternoon to visit with the kids. By the time I got out of the shower, my mom was home. I realized I hadn’t thought too much about her yesterday and instantly felt bad. Not only did she have a bad heart and had to take care of it, she had been out with a man I didn’t know and who could have done horrible things to her and dumped her body all while I was receiving oral sex for most of the night. Yeah, for most of the night. My vagina was sleepy as hell; although, just the thought of his mouth on me made it pop one eye open.

  “Calm down, whore,” I whispered to it as I sought my mom out.

  I found her in her bedroom, folding laundry and humming happily. I leaned in the doorway with my arms crossed, watching her with suspicion.

  “You slept at that man’s house last night?”

  She glanced at me. “Good morning to you, too, Lydia.”

  “Mom.”

  “Yes, honey.”

  “You slept at that man’s house last night?” My voice had risen a little higher.

  “I did,” she said without shame.

  “Mom!”

  She dropped her arms in frustration, letting a shirt slap against her side. “For heaven’s sake, Lydia. I’ve known Wes since I was fourteen years old, and for your information, I slept in the guest room.”

  “It’s what you were doing when you weren’t sleeping that I’m worried about. Does he know that you have a bad heart and that one good orgasm can kill you? Did you take your meds yesterday?”

  She stalked across the room, shoved me out into the hall, and put a hand on her hip.

  “It happened to be several good orgasms, thank you very much, and yes. I took my damn meds yesterday.”

  With that, she slammed the door in my face.

  “Gross,” I whispered and left her alone.

  Marco texted me a little later to let me know he had to make a few phone calls and handle some business before he returned. While I waited for the kids to come back, I sat down and wrote the list I was supposed to write last night. I was still undecided about whether I should go back to work, and for that matter, where to work. What kind of job could a single mom who hadn’t been employed in almost three years find? I would need something that didn’t require me to be on my feet all day, which could be hard to find without much experience or a college degree.

  I’d given up college to be a full-time mom and wife and had placed my dream of becoming an anesthesiologist on hold. Going back to school was always an option, but not for that. I’d been prepared for the twelve years of schooling when I was eighteen, single, and childless, but not in my late twenties, single again, but with three small kids. I didn’t even have the same mindset anymore, nor the same endurance that all those years of school would’ve taken. Eventually, I’d have to again figure out what I was going to be when I grew up.

  The kids came home after lunch with their grandparents. Not even five minutes after their arrival, Marco returned. When I found him at my door for the second time in twenty-four hours, I wasn’t surprised, but I had hoped he wouldn’t have come back until after Shawna and Cliff had gone. Talk about an awkward situation. I was about to introduce my new…erm…gentleman caller to my dead husband’s parents.

  “Hey,” I said, squeezing myself into the small space I’d opened with the door.

  Marco cocked one eyebrow and tried to peer around me. “I am really convinced that you have another boyfriend and he is again sneaking out the back door.”

  I stole a glance over my shoulder. “I thought you would call or text me first. My in-laws are here. They just brought the kids home.”

  There was disappointment in his eyes. “So you don’t want me to come in now.”

  I would be a real asshole to send him away just because I didn’t want to deal with a little awkwardness. It wasn’t as if Gavin was still alive and my secret lover came-a-knocking, or it wasn’t like we were divorced, and I had a bitter relationship with his parents. Shawna and Cliff were still very much a part of my life. That hadn’t ended after Gavin died.

  I sighed. “No—I mean yes. I want you to come in.”

  He inched close to me and put a palm on my cheek. “I don’t have to. I can leave and come back.”

  I covered his hand with my own and shook my head. “Come in, Marco.”

  Taking his hand, I l
ed him inside. We followed the sounds of kiddie chatter and Cliff’s baritone voice to the family room. Mandy was first to see us.

  “Marmo!” she squealed as she tried to wriggle out of her grandfather’s arms.

  Before she could reach “Marmo,” Gavi and Cora saw him and got to him first. He allowed the kids to jump on him as he pretended to get knocked over. They were all talking at the same time, Marco included. I couldn’t help but to laugh, affected by their delightful reunion.

  Shawna came up next to me and watched all the excitement. “That must be the famous Marco the kids couldn’t stop raving about.”

  I looked over at her, my smile slipping as a pocket of anxiety opened up. “Uh, yeah. That’s him. He surprised me yesterday.”

  Shawna’s lips twisted as if she were trying to hold in a secret that amused her. “I wasn’t. Surprised, that is.”

  I gasped. “You…you knew?”

  “We both knew.” Cliff sidled up on my other side.

  My gaze swung back and forth between the people who had been my secondary parents most of my life before I gave my mom an accusatory frown. “You told them?”

  “It literally had to take a village to make sure you went out and enjoyed yourself for once.” There was no apology in her manner for duping her own flesh and blood.

  The general amusement amongst the three of them made me roll my eyes.

  “All of you fucking suck,” I murmured just before Marco reached out a hand for introductions.

  Shawna and Cliff stayed through the afternoon, chatting with Mom and me, and with Marco when the kids didn’t have him occupied. Although the in-laws seemed to genuinely like my…guy friend, there were flashes of sadness and grief, too, when they saw Marco with the kids. No doubt, they probably thought of Gavin, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if they even resented Marco a little bit for being able to do what their son would never be able to do again.

  “What do you piccoli mostri want for la cena?” Marco asked after Cliff and Shawna left.

  “Beef tongue!” Cora shouted, hopping on one foot. I was impressed that she understood what he meant since half his sentence was in Italian, but the kids had picked up a lot from him in a shockingly short period.