The Real Thing

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The Real Thing Page 8

by Marina Simcoe


  He inhaled a lungful of air, savoring the sudden lightness of unexpected relief.

  Angela must have misunderstood his sigh, as she removed her hand quickly and said quietly, “It was a truly magical night, Marcus. I’ll never forget it.”

  Her voice was no longer husky and her eyes had lost their luster. Damn!

  The moment was gone, but he needed to make sure that what he felt when she touched him was real. He took her hand in his again, and she gave him a curious look.

  To his dismay, the fresh calming feeling was no longer there. It felt nice to hold her hand, but the cooling sensation was gone.

  “Right there!” She pointed out through the window suddenly. “The second high-rise from the corner is my building.”

  He followed her gesture and swept the area with his eyes quickly.

  “This is a rather eclectic mix.” He raised his eyebrow under the mask.

  In addition to the two visibly poorly-maintained high-rise apartment buildings that Angela pointed at, the intersection had a couple of abandoned red-brick factory buildings on one corner, a posh-looking condo with glass lobby and red carpet on the other corner, and a crumbling auto-shop that looked like it was going out of business opposite from it.

  She laughed. “Yeah. It wasn’t the best of the neighbourhoods when my roommate and I first moved in years ago, but it has come up since then. The condo building is new. The factories have been bought by a developer and will be converted into expensive lofts soon. And the auto-shop is for sale, too.”

  “Is it safe to live here?” Great, now he must have sounded like her mother!

  “Much safer than it used to be.” She brushed off his concern with a carefree smile. The limo stopped in front of the entrance to her building. “Thank you so much for the ride.”

  Now what? he thought as she opened the door. His usual lines in this situation were “I’ll see you around” or “Call me,” and both felt lame and useless at the moment.

  “Can I have your phone number?” He asked the second before she exited the limo. Yeah, keep it simple and to the point, Marcus!

  “You want my phone number?” she stopped on her way out and looked at him with those huge coffee-coloured eyes of hers. “You want to call me? Why?”

  She wasn’t going to make it easy on him, was she?

  “Well, it’s not every day that I get to use my magic out in the open like this. And you’re literally the only person in the world from whom I don’t have to hide, it seems.”

  “You don’t like hiding?” She tilted her head inquisitively.

  “I’m used to it, but it’s fun to be able to do this sometimes...” He tipped his chin, and the bright brooch on her coat turned into a large live butterfly.

  Angela gasped and held her breath, admiring the vivid, shimmering colours of the butterfly’s wings before it fluttered past her face and out of the half-opened door of the limo.

  “Wow,” she exhaled with a short laugh. “I could never get used to this!”

  “I told you it’s fun.” He grinned, taking his cell phone out and looking at her expectantly.

  After she told him her number, she stared at his phone for a few moments while he was entering it, as if to make sure that his phone didn’t reject it with an error message or something.

  “Well, thank you again for everything,” she nodded finally before exiting the limo.

  Was it really time for her to leave?

  “Good night, Angela.”

  Through the tinted window, Marcus watched her as she walked to the front door of her apartment building.

  Simple, he just needed to keep it simple and everything else would fall into place. It was easy to talk to her; all he had to do was ignore his persistent thoughts of grabbing her ass or biting her nipple.

  He just needed to have a real conversation. He could do it.

  Expertly balancing on her sky-high heels, Angela hopped up the crumbling front steps of her building. With an absolute disregard for his best intentions, his eyes immediately went to her fantastic ass tightly wrapped in the grey fabric of her modest dress.

  With a groan, he threw his head back. He was so screwed!

  11. Hurricane of Bad Manners.

  I woke up in my apartment, slowly drifting from sleep to reality. Like floating on air…

  I smiled through the last remnants of sleep, remembering the feel of effervescent magic coursing through me, lifting me and carrying me to the stage. Magic. The whole experience was pure magic. A dream…

  “Good morning, beautiful.” It was his voice. Was I still dreaming? “Did you sleep well?”

  Was he here? In my apartment?

  I felt the sheet covering me slide down, exposing my naked body underneath. Because this was how I always slept, in the nude!

  Horrified, I didn’t move as I tried to collect my thoughts. The sheet slid to my waist and stopped. I was lying on my stomach, in my usual sleeping position, and my back was all that had been exposed so far. All I had to do was shriek, grab the sheet or the pillow, cover myself and kick him out of my bedroom to get dressed. That was what most women would do when caught like this.

  It also was the exact reaction that he likely expected from me. Why else would he provoke me like that?

  My heart was thundering in my chest, but not because I was scared of him. Unreasonably maybe, but Marcus didn’t feel like a complete stranger to me, and I didn’t believe for a second that he was here to harm me, at least not in any physical way. My heart, however, was a different story. As far as my feelings for him went, my heart was exposed and vulnerable.

  Maybe if I played it cool and acted unaffected, I could fool him as well as myself that none of it was a big deal.

  Silent, he waited for my reaction.

  I fisted my sweating hands, inhaled a bracing breath and turned around to face him, just the way I was, covered by the sheet only from my waist down.

  “Good morning,” I managed a calm greeting. “Thank you, I slept well.”

  Marcus reclined comfortably in the orange armchair in the corner of my bedroom. He looked great, as always, in his mask, leather pants and boots, with his hair down. Today he also wore a dark-grey Metallica t-shirt.

  When he saw me topless, the cheeky grin on his face slowly melted away and his eyes narrowed. I congratulated myself on gaining the upper hand, even if temporarily.

  Suddenly, I was lifted into the air. Again! I tensed every muscle in my body, afraid to lose my balance and tumble through the air with my arms and legs flailing around. I could kiss goodbye to my looking cool then!

  I hovered over the bed, struggling with all my might to retain the seemingly relaxed position of lying on my side propped on an elbow. The sheet lifted in the air with me for a little while but then, obeying the laws of physics, slowly slid off and pooled on the bed below me, leaving me completely naked and exposed.

  In the next moment, I felt myself move through the air again, but it wasn’t the gentle floating like in the theater. This time, I flew through the air with the speed that would have made my head spin if my bedroom was any bigger and I had a longer distance to fly. As it was, I only stayed airborne for a fraction of a second before landing straight into Marcus’s lap.

  “You are so fucking hot,” he hissed through the clenched teeth. His arms went around and pulled me to him with power almost strong enough to crush my bones. “So you decided to tease me?” he growled through the hurried, hot kisses he was leaving on my neck and shoulder. He fisted his hand into the hair at the back of my head and pulled me closer. “It worked,” he snarled just before his mouth landed on mine in a hungry kiss.

  All air left my lungs at once. The intensity of his assault paralyzed my senses, making me melt under the heat of his passion as he devoured my mouth. His scent took a hold of me, just as strong as the hold of his arms. The ever-present smell of warm leather. The male scent of his skin. It made my head spin! I moaned and wrapped my arms tighter around his shoulders.

  That
’s what it’s like to be kissed by Marcus! The thought flew through my mind like a bird caught in a hurricane. Everything I ever thought it would be and so, so much more. What would it be like to be loved by him?

  His hands slid down under my ass and he lifted me slightly in the attempt to make me straddle his thighs with my legs spread.

  This wasn’t love… This was so very far from it. The memories of pictures of him with different women came to mind.

  I never saw him with the same girl twice. Never. And if I went all the way with him now, chances were I would never see him again. Ever.

  Of course, if I made him leave now, there was a strong chance that I wouldn’t see him again either, but at least I would feel better about myself. At least that something special and magical that I now had in my life because of him would remain unspoiled.

  I gathered what willpower I had and pulled away from his kiss. The muscles in his arms flexed, holding me in an iron grip, refusing to let me go.

  “Marcus…” I struggled to catch my breath, holding on to the sliver of common sense I had left.

  He breathed hard too. His eyes were dark — almost black — when he looked at me. His voice was low and rough when he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s not how it works.” I inhaled deeply in a desperate need to get some oxygen to my brain as fast as possible. “You can’t show up in my bedroom uninvited like this.” My head was still spinning, and I needed to put some distance between us to be able to think clearly. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed slightly to see if he’d listen.

  He drew a lungful of air, and the ridged circle of his arms relaxed around me. I was free to go, I realized with relief.

  With him releasing me, though, I felt safe to linger just for another second, using the moment to allow myself one last liberty. If he left now, this would have been my one and only chance, so I took it.

  Carefully, as if dealing with a dangerous animal, I reached for the long strands of hair that fell over his face and traced them with my fingers, pushing them aside. His hair had always fascinated me. I wondered many times what would it feel like. It was much softer than I anticipated. Thick and silky, his hair slid through my fingers like fine sand, tickling my skin.

  Marcus went completely still under my touch, just like he did when I covered his hand with mine in the limo last night. He barely breathed. I couldn’t see his chest rise and fall any more. Silent, I placed the strand of hair behind his shoulder and got off his lap.

  My bathrobe hung on the hook across the room, and I headed that way on my shaky legs, abandoning all attempts of looking cool. I grabbed the bathrobe a moment before his arms wrapped around me again from behind, and I heard his hot whisper in my ear, “You can’t show me that gorgeous ass of yours and expect me to leave. Are you making it impossible for me to keep any control around you on purpose?”

  I stilled, my arms pressed to my body by his embrace, my hands clutching the bathrobe.

  “Marcus,” I kept my voice even, as if taming a predator. “It was not my choice to show you anything. I always sleep naked when I’m alone.”

  “And when you’re not alone?” He grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around to face him.

  “And when I’m not alone, I don’t sleep at all.” I smiled sweetly and explained patiently, “I can’t sleep when somebody’s in my bed. Regardless, you shouldn’t be here.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath in. The silent pause between us stretched too long for my comfort, but I resisted the urge to break it, waiting for his reply instead.

  “In my defence, I didn’t know about your preference for nudity.” His voice sounded lighter when he finally spoke. When he looked at me again, he kept his eyes fixed on mine, no longer allowing his gaze to stray south from my face. “I was expecting some lingerie when I came in here this morning, or at least an old oversized t-shirt. Finding you naked was a nice surprise, though,” he grinned.

  “That’s hardly a defence, Marcus,” I shook my head. “The point is you shouldn’t show up like this. How about a phone call next time? I have a doorbell too. Yeah, and feel free to make some coffee while you wait for me in the kitchen.”

  “If I make you coffee now and let you put that bathrobe on, will you let me stay?” he asked with his hands still on my shoulders.

  I tilted my head to the side.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can trust you to respect any boundaries at this point. Also, I have a real concern about your manners. Everyone knows there should be at least a dinner and some flowers before you get to see a person naked.”

  The tension in the room dissipated slightly to my huge relief. I took a tentative step back from him, opened the bathrobe in my hands and slipped it on, finally.

  Oddly enough, I didn’t feel as self-conscious about my naked body in front of him as I would have expected. The generous size of my ass, quite frankly, had caused some grief to me in the past. Several of my friends, coworkers and ex-boyfriends alike teased me because of it. My own brother, too.

  Marcus, however, showed up here on his own accord. If he couldn’t deal with what he’d seen, he was free to leave any time.

  I needed the bathrobe for different reasons. I needed to add as many layers of clothing as possible between us to keep the appropriate distance from him. The bathrobe was my shield to protect me from the fire in his eyes and from my own temptation to respond to it.

  I walked towards the kitchen, feeling him right on my heels as he followed. He definitely didn’t show any intention of leaving!

  “I’m not asking how you got in here, but with your obviously extensive experience in dating —” I stopped in my tracks in the doorway of my small kitchen.

  There were two Starbucks cups of coffee on my tiny Ikea table, a plate with eggs and bacon, another plate with a mound of pancakes, a basket with muffins, and a restaurant-style rack with preserves, spreads and butter.

  “What the…?” I turned around to face Marcus and demand an explanation, only to find a huge bouquet of blood-red roses in front of me.

  “I know nothing about dating,” he said as a matter of fact.

  “I didn’t mean ‘dating’ dating…” I mumbled, staring at the roses in his hands, suddenly at a loss for words. I knew that he could do impossible things, but all this still shocked me. The dating slip-up was also rather unfortunate on my part. “What is this?”

  “Flowers,” he said, and handed me the roses. “Would you take breakfast instead of dinner?”

  I pressed the prickly bouquet to my chest, not expecting this turn of events on this already weirder than weird morning.

  “Why? What would you want for it? You’ve already seen me naked…”

  “Everything else,” he said firmly.

  My knees gave in finally, and I plopped on a chair by the table, crushing the poor roses in my arms.

  Marcus walked around the table and took a seat across from me. Unlike me, he appeared collected and in control. A man on a mission.

  “Like what?” I asked carefully.

  “Like in ‘everything else there is,’” he said slowly and smiled at me.

  Many things about him were familiar, but I was still getting used to his smile. The skin around the corners of his mouth gathered, making the smile brighter and happier. I wondered if he had the matching laugh lines in the corners of his eyes under the mask too.

  I couldn’t hold my own smile back, even as my heart felt heavy. His playful mood was contagious, his flirting was enticing. I was in so much trouble!

  “Look, Marcus,” I said, calling on the voice of common sense that already saved me once today. “I will be honest, I can’t have sex with you.”

  “Why not?” His smile waned and he leaned towards me.

  “Seriously? Because I simply wouldn’t survive it!” I blurted out. “I’m not against casual sex. Generally. It works for some, and it’s great. But me… with you. I couldn’t do it,” I inhaled heavily and whisper
ed the last part, “No offence, but I simply can’t afford to be just another notch on your deteriorating bedpost…” I lowered my eyes to his hands on the table to avoid looking at him.

  Who am I kidding! I wanted him the first time I laid my eyes on him, the first time I smelled his skin, the first time I grasped his hands when he caught me floating over the stage. I wanted him right now. So much it hurt! All he had to do was kiss me again like he did in the bedroom…

  My heart sped up so fast; I could hear the swishing sound of my pulse in my head.

  A sudden concern made me ask him immediately, “Can you manipulate human emotions? Read and influence people’s thoughts?”

  He exhaled a short frustrated laugh, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do here, Angela! Obviously, I suck at it. It’s not working very well, is it?”

  I couldn’t hold back a nervous laugh myself.

  “No, I mean through your magic?”

  He looked closely at me, peering with his denim-blues through the slits of his mask.

  His hands were on the table in front of him, clasped together so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

  “No. I can’t do anything human related — read their minds, influence their behaviours or their bodies. But sometimes I really wish I could.”

  So I couldn’t blame my feelings for him on any mind control tricks. Too bad, I would have to bear all responsibility for my own lust.

  I lowered my eyes to his hands again.

  He had a couple of black and silver rings on his fingers. Several thin leather belts with silver chains and accents were wrapped around his wrists. On the pictures and posters, he often had a few long chains and some pendants or medallions hanging on leather cords around his neck.

  I lifted my eyes, my gaze gliding up along the tense bulging muscles of his arms. He had nothing around his neck right now, except for a thin silver chain that disappeared into the t-shirt, hiding whatever pendant he had on it, if any.

  The chain lay across his collarbone, and I saw it move rapidly along with his pulse. It was so fast! His blood must have been swishing in his ears too!

 

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