The Position Book Four

by Izzy Mason

  “Mickey,” he sighs, “…what the hell am I doing here? If you…”

  But I don’t let him finish. I’m too overwhelmed with emotion and desire. Lazarus. He’s here. He’s finally here. I rush to him and drop to the ground, pressing my lips against his. Lazarus grunts, taken by surprise. I don’t give him the chance to protest. I push him back onto the firm bags of rice, piled across the floor like a bed.

  He doesn’t pull away, but he’s too thrown to properly respond. I don’t care. I want to feel his long, firm body under mine. I grab his hands and press them hard against my breasts, his weak spot. Lazarus sighs loudly. His hands squeeze. His mouth opens to mine.

  As we kiss, he moans softly. His breath accelerates. At first he can’t stop squeezing my breasts. Then all of sudden, he’s touching me all over, frantically, as if there were a set timer about to go off. His hands are on my ass, between my legs, in my hair, and back to my breasts. He’s panting. Losing control. I love it.

  My body responds instinctively. I press my breasts harder into his hands, my hips gyrating against his erection. He’s making animal grunts now, getting louder and breathier. Before I know it, he’s rolled me off of him and onto my back. He quickly climbs on top of me, holding my wrists so I can’t move. Then he falls onto my lips again and we kiss so long and so deep I think I’ll lose consciousness.

  Finally, he pulls away. He looks down at me, his face flushed and full of lust.

  “Don’t play games with me, Mickey. Don’t play games. You’ve got me all fucked up. I can’t stand it. I want you all the time. God, I want you…”

  He pushes up my tee shirt and instantly flicks open the clasp of my bra. Lazarus gazes at my breasts like a sober drunk looking at a glass of whiskey. His eyes go cloudy. He lets out a low growl.

  “What have you done to me? I’m all fucked up. I’m all…”

  But he can’t resist any longer. He mouth drops to the right nipple and he sucks it in. Oh, yes. This. This. This. Finally. This. He suckles and licks and squeezes, sending lightening bolts of pleasure through me. I let my hands drop over my head in full surrender.

  “Oh, God, yes, Lazarus…” I pant. “Yes.”

  He moves to the left, making me squirm and writhe. He’s in a frenzy, addicted to my breasts. I can feel it humming through him, the force of his desire. It’s overwhelming him. He buries his face between my breasts and crushes them against it. And then he’s licking and sucking again.

  The fire in me is fierce and out of control. If I could just press against him I would explode. But then he pulls up my skirt and pushes my panties down. After a moment of desperate fumbling with the buttons of his trousers, he’s pushing himself into me. All of him. It fills me.

  I let out a breathy cry. Already the pleasure is building again. My body can’t get enough. Lazarus buries his face in my hair and moans. Then he’s thrusting hard, in and out, in and out. I wrap my arms around him. His muscular back is hot and damp with sweat. The pleasure surges. It’s all I feel. I become a part of the rhythm. The pressure mounts. It’s like I’m breaking apart. I cry out again and again and again through the ripples of ecstasy.

  He lifts his face and looks at me. His teeth are clenched. He look down at the full flesh of my breasts bouncing up and down with the rhythm of his thrusts. It’s too much. He closes his eyes and opens his mouth in a silent, breathless scream, his body convulsing and shuddering all over.

  Lazarus collapses onto me, his breathing ragged and fast. He buries his face in my hair again and says nothing for a long time. We lay like that, still entwined on a bed of rice sacks, our chests pressed together, pounding loudly. I stroke his beautiful hair and run my hands over his back, still clad in a tee shirt.

  “I don’t understand you,” he mumbles into my neck at last. “Are you trying to destroy me? Because that’s what’s happening. You’re wrecking me. Stringing me along and then kicking me away. And the worst part is, every time you want to pull me back, I can’t resist you. It’s awful.”

  As he slides out of me I gasp lightly. Then he rolls onto his back. I shiver with the cold air that has replaced his body. He pushes his hands into his hair. It’s funny to hear him talk about me in the way I always felt about him. That he was playing games with me. Using me for sport. How strange. Jude Lazarus is tormented. Because of me.

  Chapter Seven

  “Lazarus…” I say quietly.

  “Why do you call me that?” He doesn’t look at me when he says it. “You’d think by now we’d be on a first name basis.”

  I smile. Why do I always think of him as Lazarus? Why not Jude? I love the name Jude. Maybe it’s because my feelings for him rise up from the ashes again and again. Or maybe it’s just that Jude is too simple a name for a demi-god like him. I can’t explain it.

  “I don’t know.”

  There’s another silence. The muffled sounds of festivity drift in through the door, making me keenly aware of how long I’ve been away from the table. I have to get on with it.

  “Jude…” It sounds strange coming out of my mouth. “Who exactly is Celestina’s family?”

  He’s quiet for a moment and I can sense the tension in his body. “Why are you asking?”

  Here goes nothing. If I’m dead, I’m dead. Fuck it. “There’s been a town car following me everywhere I go. And the night I was expecting you, a man knocked on my door. He forced his way in…”

  “Jesus,” Lazarus gasps. He sits up and looks at me, alarmed.

  “He wouldn’t tell me his name. He wouldn’t tell me anything, really. All he said was that I had to stay away from you or he’d come back and hurt me. He knew about my friend Travis and where he lives, too. He threatened to hurt Travis.”

  “What did he look like, this guy?” Lazarus’s jaw is tense and his eyes are steely gray.

  “Kind of short, but brawny. Pretty ugly. A scar on his eyebrow. And he had an accent.”

  “Antonio…” Lazarus grumbles, mostly to himself.

  “Who’s Antonio?”

  He rubs his face. Suddenly he looks exhausted. “Celestina’s cousin. He’s a very dangerous man.”

  My stomach does a pirouette.

  “He said that he’s worked hard and a lot of money was on the line, or something. And he said if I didn’t do what he said he’d take every penny from you.”

  Lazarus moves to the edge of the rice sacks and stands up. He buttons his trousers and begins to pace back and forth. His face is all shadows.

  “This is my fault. I was too careless. I didn’t take it seriously enough. Jesus, Mickey. I’m so sorry that happened to you. But don’t worry. I’m going to fix it. Somehow, I’ll fix it.”

  “Why does Celestina’s cousin have control over your finances, Jude? I don’t understand.” I hesitate, thinking of something for the first time. “You’re not involved in drug trafficking or anything like that…?”

  Lazarus laughs, though without much humor. “God, no. That’s not me.”

  He stops pacing and stands with his back to me, frozen in thought. I wait patiently, realizing how anxious he is. I don’t want to push him. But at this point, I do deserve to know the truth. He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs loudly. He turns around and comes back to where I am. He sits on the edge of the rice sacks again.

  “You know how we’ve both had really crappy childhoods?”

  I nod.

  “It was hard, all of it. But I got by. I landed on my feet. When my mom died it just made me work harder. I needed her sacrifice to be for something. To do right by her.”

  I move closer to him and put a hand on his back, moved again by our similar struggles. Tears are welling up in my eyes, but I bite my lip to fight them back. “Oh, Jude…”

  “But my brother, Alex, didn’t fare so well. He was only in seventh grade when Mom died.” He stops and rubs at his eyes. His shoulders are stooped and he looks so defeated. “God, he loved her so much. I should’ve stepped in. Let him live with me. But I was barely getting by, working
full time and going to school. So he went to live with an aunt. And it didn’t go well.”

  He sighs loudly and stands up again. I never imagined Jude Lazarus could look so vulnerable and sad. He shakes his head, as if snapping himself out of a place too dark and awful to handle. Then he clears his throat and turns to look at me.

  “All this to say, Alex got into some trouble. Quite a lot of trouble, actually. He got in way over his head and ended up owing a lot of money to some bad guys.”

  I feel a wave of warmth ripple through me. Of course this would be how Lazarus gets into a bad situation. Helping out his little brother.

  “And you bailed him out?” I ask.

  “You could say that.”

  “What do you mean? What did you do?”

  Lazarus shakes his head and crosses his arms, as if protecting himself from the facts of his situation. “I basically signed my life away. But the only alternative was to see them kill my brother. Brutally.”

  “You signed over your business?” All this time I thought Jude Lazarus was sitting pretty at the top of the world. I had no idea he didn’t even own everything he’d worked so hard to build.

  He’s quiet. For what seems like forever, he stares at the ground, conjuring up the courage to speak the words. Finally, he clears his throat.

  “So, the Marquez family is very close. It’s like they’re a private little cosa nostra.”

  “Are they mafia?” I gasp, tingles of fear running up my back.

  “No, but they act like a mafia. And they are pathologically loyal to each other. The entire extended family. And Celestina is one of them.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, Celestina wanted me. We’d gone on a few dates, but it wasn’t working for me. Celestina felt otherwise. And Celestina got what she wanted.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. “So this contract is…”

  “It stipulates that I marry Celestina, give her the big wedding, follow her rules—which include faithfulness, obviously—or else the Marquez family either kills Alex or takes possession of my share of Lazarus & Smith, which at this point is most of the company. And obviously, they’re serious about the rules.”

  I look away, feeling a hopelessness wash over me. There’s nothing we can do about it. Celestina basically owns Lazarus. And she has the power and reach to take me out of the equation as well. If I don’t set him free, I will be his destruction. I’d never be able to live with myself.

  “Then we need to stop,” I say flatly.

  Lazarus turns and crouches down in front of me. “But I don’t want to stop.”

  “Jude, I’m not going to watch you throw everything away for me. I can’t do it.”

  He puts his hands on my arms. They’re big and warm and strong. I want them to stay there forever.

  “Mickey, we’ll find a way. Just don’t give up on me.”

  “That’s insane.” I push his hands away and move around him to get on my feet. “Do you know how hard it was for me to arrange this? In fact, if I don’t get out there soon they may figure it out already. Besides, it’s not just your business on the line. It’s Travis’s safety. And mine.”

  He walks over to me and pulls me into his arms. His face is earnest and beautiful. I want him more than I want life itself. I’m in love with him. He gently holds my face in his hands and kisses me softly. Almost instantly, I can feel the hardness against me. I feel dizzy. Then he pulls away.

  “You’re right.” His voice is practically a whisper. “You’re right.”

  He walks to the door and nods at the handle, telling me to go. I take in a quivering breath and follow. It feels like there’s an angry fist in my chest, squeezing all of the air out of my body. But we both know it’s the only way. I can’t believe it. It’s really over.

  As I slip my fingers around the handle, Lazarus steps close. He lightly touches my hair, as if I were radioactive. His eyes are pained, but alive.

  “I didn’t think it would ever happen,” he says quietly, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I’ve finally fallen in love.”

  Chapter Eight

  It’s like the world has gone black and white. Colorless. Flat. Dull. I sit at my desk and do my work, trying to focus. I try not to pay attention to the constant ache in my chest. It’s literally a throbbing beneath my breastbone, as if love were a biological, cardiac experience. Sometimes it gets so constricting that I can’t breathe. To make it stop, I have to lock myself in the bathroom, sit on the little chair in the corner, and hang my head between my knees so I don’t pass out.

  All I want is to see Lazarus. To talk to him. I want to hear more about his heartbreaking childhood and try to make it all feel better. I want to sleep in his arms all night again, and drink coffee with him in the morning. I want him to walk around my apartment in his boxer briefs, showing off that ridiculously sexy body. I want to go on dates with him. I want to fuck his brains out. I want it all so much that I can barely function without him.

  I feel like a balloon that’s slowly deflating. I’ll end up withered and flat and useless.

  “Hey, sunshine!”

  Devon is leaning against my desk holding her ratty binder with several pages of notes from a recent call with Chance. I look up at her with the phoniest smile of all time.

  “You want to go over that stuff now?”

  She raises one eyebrow and cocks her head to the side. “What the fuck was that? That smile was more forced than a sorority girl on a date with an ugly rich guy.”

  “Oh, come on, Dev,” I mumble. “Just cut me some slack. I’ve had a few personal problems that I’d rather not bring into work. So yes, this is the smile you’re going to get. I don’t want to hear about it.”

  Even though Devon and Nate are super cool and casual, I never talk about private things with them. It doesn’t feel professional. Plus, I don’t want to give them any ammo that will varnish the bizarrely pristine image they have of me.

  Devon half-sits on the corner of my desk and gives me a genuine look of empathy. “Look, kid. You don’t have to pretend with me. Nate and I, we’ve had a shit ton of heartbreak. Money problems. Plumbing issues. You’re allowed to be depressed, for the love of God. And you don’t even have to tell us why.”

  I lose the phony smile and give her a wan, grateful nod. “Thanks, Dev.”

  “What you need is distraction. You need to get out of the house and have some fun.”

  I roll my eyes and sink back in my chair. “Last time I did that I was assaulted by a superhero.”

  Dev lets out her loud, whooping laugh, which fills the small office. “This is different. There’s a party at an old friend’s house tonight. She’s started, like, a million businesses and used to be married to the mayor. Which means the food and wine will be spectacular.”

  “Thanks for the invite, but I don’t feel much like socializing.”

  “Here’s another reason for you to go… Your potential client is going to be there. The one who called? He finally left his name, and let me tell you, this is a deal you want to close. On behalf of the firm, right?”

  I look at her inquisitively. What if it’s one of the Marquez family members just trying to fuck with me? Maybe they want to ruin my life whether I see Lazarus or not.

  “What’s the name?”

  “Cornell Cain.” She waits for my reaction, eyebrows raised in expectation. “Cornell Cain…?” she repeats. “Hello!”

  “Who’s Cornell Cain?”

  Devon feigns exasperation. “Child! Only the owner of the largest chain of boutique hotels in the world! This isn’t a guy who’s going to want a single hotel redesign. He’s going to need hundreds of them redesigned. Maybe thousands! That’s a lot of moola, girl! Not bad for your first solo gig!”

  I nearly fall out of my chair in relief. Not a Marquez. He’s a real potential client. And he wants to talk to me. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with self-doubt.

  “Why does he want me?”

  “I don’t think you reali
ze what an impression your designs for the nightclub have had in certain circles. They’ve been leaked, you know.”

  “What?”

  “In a good way,” she rushes to say. “In the way that brings on the next client. Or clients. Until our firm is a castle in the clouds.”

  I shake my head in amazement. “They’ve really made that big of an impression? Just because of the stupid butterflies?”

  Devon steps back in surprise. She frowns. “Jesus, you really are depressed.” She drops the binder on my desk and turns to go. “Look through these and we’ll talk later. And I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something fabulous.”

  I almost shout after her in protest, but decide to stay quiet. Maybe it is what I need. If I can’t have the love of my life, I might as well throw everything into my career. After all, it’s pretty much all I have. I thumb through Devon’s notes.

  “Michaela?”

  Startled, I turn around. It’s our temporary receptionist, Amber, a blond girl just out of college, like me. Nate wanted to see how helpful it would be to have someone else manning the phones. But I’m not used to having anyone else around to interrupt me from my work.

  “Yes?” I say, catching my breath.

  “I’m sorry I scared you…”

  “It’s fine,” I say, trying not to sound irritated. “What do you need?”

  Amber’s eyes are wide and confused. “Oh, I don’t need anything. It’s just… there’s someone here who’s asking for you.”

  For an irrational moment, my heart surges. It’s Lazarus. He’s come to pick me up and carry me away, Marquez family be damned. But then my brain catches up and stamps out all hope. Maybe it’s Cornell Cain. Who know? No one has ever stopped by the office asking for me before.

  “Thanks,” I say to Amber. “I’ll be right out.”