“You afraid to try the lasagna?”
Rolling her eyes, she scooped up a bite and tried it. Then she blinked and shot him a look. “Wow.”
A smug grin curved his lips as he cut into his. “Told you.”
“You really need to work on that humility problem of yours, Marc. People just don’t know what to make of overly humble people.”
He chuckled and for a few minutes they ate in a light, companionable silence.
The lasagna was probably better than any she could make. Of course, she didn’t do much cooking lately. Sometimes she and Shera decided to do something, but for the most part, she stuck with the cheap and the basic, out of necessity. “Who taught you to cook?” she asked after she’d done everything but lick the enamel off the plate. Breaking a piece of her bread off, she told herself she wasn’t going to be jealous when he said it had been a girlfriend.
“My drummer’s wife.” He leaned back, eyeing like he knew what she was thinking. “She’s my assistant. You’ve met her. Ilona?”
“Yeah.” Cute. Funny. Biting sense of humor. Chaili had liked her. “I’m surprised she had the patience to do it.”
“Oh, she’s got the patience of a saint. She just hides it well.” He glanced at her plate. “Want more? I made enough to feed an army.”
“No.” She patted her belly. “I ate far more than I needed to anyway.”
She nipped another bite of the bread and immediately choked when he said, “Take your shirt off.”
Reaching for her glass of water, she glared at him. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Absolutely not.” He smiled at her, stroking his thumb down the line of his jaw. “Take off your shirt.”
She looked around, but the way the layout of his house was designed, nobody would be able to see them unless they were either on the deck with them, or out on the water.
Still, she was blushing as she stripped the shirt off. Folding it, she set it down on the table and lifted her head to find him skimming his eyes along her body. They didn’t even hesitate on the scars, she noticed. It was like the scars were the same to him as her belly, her legs… Except they weren’t. Closing her eyes, she fought the urge to hide, could even feel her shoulders slumping, her feet itching with the need to turn away.
“Look at me.”
Staring at him through her lashes, she held her hands fisted at her sides.
“You ready for dessert?”
The look on her face might have been comical, except there was nothing funny about the way she kept trying to pull away from him. He was tired of it. It was like she couldn’t stop herself, and even though she wasn’t backpedaling as much now as she had been, he figured the best thing to do was just keep her off balance a little.
Seemed fair.
He’d been off balance ever since he’d walked into Escortè and seen her standing there.
“Dessert?” she echoed, looking down at her bare chest and then up at him. Sighing, she brushed her hair back and rested her elbows on the table. “You really plan to make me eat dessert naked, Marc?”
“You’re not naked,” he pointed out. Echoing her pose, he held her gaze even though all he wanted to do was shove the table out of the way—would be kind of hard to do that too. The table had been built into the deck. That little fact didn’t matter. He still wanted to do it, wanted to lay her out on the long bench, spread her thighs, hold her open and bare and strip away all the barriers, all the walls… and just have her.
Have all of her. Have everything.
No walls. No barriers.
Just them.
She smirked at him. “Okay, so I’m wearing a skirt. Close enough to naked. What’s the point of this?”
“The point is, I want to see you sitting there, naked under that skirt. Firelight on your skin. And I want to think about what I’m going to do to you next,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He left her sitting there, face flushed, lips parted. And for a minute, he thought maybe she’d be too distracted to think about how uncomfortable she was.
He dumped the dishes in the sink. It was Sunday—that meant tomorrow Heloise would be in to clean. Thank God. Normally, he’d at least try to make a dent in the mess he’d made. His mom had drilled that into his head, but he didn’t want to think about anything other than Chaili at this point.
He grabbed the dessert from the fridge, just a single plate. He hadn’t made this. Dessert, he couldn’t do. He either rushed it or forgot and burned things, or something and they never turned out right.
But he knew a lady who made a mean chocolate mousse… Ilona was going to kill him if he kept begging for favors. He just might owe her a kidney or something if this kept up.
Back out on the deck, he saw Chaili sitting there, fidgeting with the fringe on her skirt with one hand, the other gripping her shoulder, partially hiding her chest.
She lifted her head and for a moment, he just stared.
How in the hell had he missed this? Standing there, looking in those jewel-toned eyes, watching him in that way she had, how that slow smile tugged at her lips, feeling that kick to his gut…how had he missed this?
Clearing his throat, he headed over to the table and sat next to her, straddling the bench. He lifted her knees, drawing her into the cradle of his body. “You know, when I was headed over to Escortè, the night of that party…I started thinking,” he said, taking a spoon and dipping it into the mousse.
“Thinking, huh?” She leaned in, peering at the bowl. “Oh, damn. Is that chocolate?”
“Yep. And if you’re going to be a smart ass, I’ll keep it for myself.” He took the bite he’d been planning on giving to her and slid it into his mouth, winking at her. “I can speak from experience…it’s delicious.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You shouldn’t tempt a woman about chocolate, Marc. It’s not fair.”
“You shouldn’t keep poking at me, unless you really want a reaction,” he said, shrugging. “Anyway, I was heading over there, irritated as hell that I was going to have to put up with some woman I didn’t know. Most of the women Shera has at Escortè are nice ladies, I know that. Polite, they can talk about shit that’s way over my head, but…” He shrugged. “They bore me.”
“Then why do it?” She made a grab for the spoon.
He caught her wrist. “Nope. I feed you.”
Sighing, she snuggled in against him.
“Open.” He scooped up a bite, held it up.
She took it, closed her lips and moaned.
The sound of it shot straight to his dick. Damn it. He fed her another bite and this time, she made a little humming sound under her breath. “Gimme more,” she demanded.
“Be patient.”
He ate some more, grinning at her as she shot him a look that threatened to send him to the hospital. “You’ve got a thing for chocolate, I see.”
“Yes, I do.” She poked him in the ribs. “You’re bordering into mean territory there, pal.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He fed her a few more bites, relishing the way she relaxed against him, the way she smiled. Yeah, he was really questioning just how he’d missed this.
“You never answered me,” she said quietly.
“Answered…oh. Escortè…you’re distracting me again, you know. You keep making these little humming sounds while you’re eating and it’s like you’re getting turned on just by the chocolate, and my dick’s getting jealous.” He helped himself to another bite and then fed her one. “It’s easy. She’s careful about who she hires and the women like the money, they like the job…most of them know she’s going to unleash holy hell if they violate the agreements they sign so I know it’s…safe. For the most part. Usually there’s one girl she sets me up with and I like her well enough.” He shrugged. “I guess she was busy that night. Thank God.”
“But why do it? I mean, hell, Marc…you can’t tell me you’ve got trouble finding dates,” she said, tipping her head back and staring up at him.
“It’s not the finding them,” he muttered. Dropping the spoon into the bowl, he eased her off his lap and turned around, staring out over the water. “It’s keeping things on a level I’m comfortable, without doing something or saying something that will piss somebody off. There was a woman I was just keeping a friendly thing with— Ah…” He slanted a look at her and shrugged. “This is complicated…but there were just a mess of screwed-up relationships. The worst one was a few years ago. A friend… Ah. Well. We’d been friends. It got to be more. Then it wasn’t. Things didn’t go well from there.”
Chaili lifted the spoon, scooping more of the mousse into her mouth. Then, she held a bite to his lips. “Ended bad, huh?”
Blowing out a breath, he said quietly, “It was my manager. Lily. We’d been going along fine, then she up and messes around with a friend of mine. I walked in. Then I walked out and packed up her shit, told her to get out. They told me I’m taking it too personally. Whatever. That lasted about a week and then one day, she comes out here, wants to talk. First she tried just…” He paused, twisting it over in his mind.
Chaili snorted. “She thought she could screw you into letting it go?”
“That sums it up. I didn’t buy it. Told her to leave. Then she tried convincing me how it was a horrible mistake and she was so sorry. When that didn’t work…” He closed his eyes, blew out a breath. This was it. The thing that sent him spinning around the country, the world, for months on end. Rarely stopping for more than five minutes. “She told me if I tried to walk away, she was going to tell everybody I raped her. That I abused her. She tried to claim there was video…” He trailed off, waiting for that punch of anger, that twist of shame.
All that was there, though, was some bit of resignation. He’d really cared about Lily.
Really.
It wouldn’t have ever been love, he knew that. But she’d mattered to him. And then she’d done that.
“She would hurt you that way,” Chaili said, her voice all but vibrating with fury.
He shrugged jerkily. “Hey, up until a week or so ago, I was just having some seriously fucked-up luck when it came to women. Maybe it’s because I was seeing the wrong ones.”
He went to touch her shoulder, but she brushed his hand away, surging up off the bench to pace.
Well, he mused, she wasn’t too concerned about her lack of clothes now. Her short, deep brown hair was mussed and it got worse as she shoved her hands through it. “How in the hell could she even say something like that? Was she fucked up in the head or what?”
“Well, yeah.” When she turned to look at him, Marc shrugged. “Good a reason as any.”
He caught her hand and tugged her over to him, down onto his lap. “Calm down.” He stroked a hand up her back, her shoulders, cupping his hand over her neck. “It’s over and done.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down.” She glared at him, a snarl twisting her lips. “That kind of shit is just plain evil. What made her stop?”
He studied her face, heaving out a breath. Figured he might as well go ahead and finish it. “My sister,” he said, jerking a shoulder in a shrug. “She…well, we were at my place. Supposed to go out to dinner. The two of them showed up at the same time and I ended up in the studio with Lily while Shera was upstairs. I wasn’t kidding when I said she was fucked up in the head. Lily had been using for a while. It was getting out of hand. I dunno, something set Shera’s mental alarm off. I’ve got the studio set up to record if I want. Shera’s done it a few times…when I’m just messing around, working on a new piece. She slipped in. I didn’t even notice. I was trying to pretend nobody was there and I just wanted Lily to leave.
“Lily was high, hell, I ended up having to call a car for her, she was so strung out. So when she started with the threats, Shera had it all on video. Lily was getting all ugly and I ignored her for the most part, even though I guess part of me was worried. I told her to she had to go and she was heading to the door, swearing and making threats when Shera stopped us in the hall. She made us both go into the living room and she popped the DVD into the recorder. Shera told Lily if she ever bothered me again, that DVD would hit the inbox of every musician she could find—nobody wants to work with a manager who is going to pull that kind of shit. Lily came after Shera, but…”
Chaili grinned, a mean, happy little smile. “She hit her, didn’t she? Hard?”
Marc shook his head. “I’m surrounded by bloodthirsty women. Yeah. Popped her one. Lily went down cold. That night…” He looked away. “She overdosed that night. Ended up in the hospital. She finally got clean, though. I heard from her a few months ago. She sent me a letter, told me she was sorry, wanted to…make amends.”
“Did you tell her to fuck off?”
“You swear too much, Chaili,” he teased. Resting a hand on her breastbone, he held her gaze. “I called her. She wanted to meet for dinner. Talk old times. Apologize. I told her she could apologize well enough over the phone if she had to, but it wasn’t necessary.” At the time, he’d been too angry with her, still. Now he realized it didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t need to be angry about it, but he also didn’t need to see her again.
“Like hell,” she snapped.
He shook his head. “If she needs to do it, she needs to do it. I’m not angry with her. I just figured that out too. There’s no reason for me to be. She was strung out on drugs half the time, on sex the other half. She maintained a good front and I didn’t even realize how bad off she was…” Frowning, he shrugged. “I wasn’t good for her. If I’d seen how screwed up she was, maybe—hey!”
He rubbed his chest, glaring at her. “You trying to poke a hole in me or what?”
“Don’t make excuses for her.” She wiggled off his lap, shooting him a dark look. “That pisses me off. I can’t stand it when people make excuses for addicts.”
“Shit.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face.
Chaili’s mom had done more than a little time in and out of treatment centers. Her drug of choice had been alcohol, though. When Chaili was a sophomore in college, her mom had been riding home with a boyfriend and they’d been in an accident—alcohol had been involved on both sides. Nobody survived. Neither of the drivers had been sober, but since Chaili’s mom was the passenger, insurance had been forced to pay Chaili the full benefits and it had let her finish college.
But it left her with little tolerance for addicts. Considering some of the shit he’d seen her deal with most of her life, he could understand.
“I’m not making excuses, exactly,” he said quietly. “But if you’re involved with somebody, you should see when they need help.”
“And she could have told you she needed it, instead of trying to cry rape when you wanted out of a relationship that wasn’t working,” Chaili said, her voice cool.
It was a little more complicated than that, but…hell. How had they gotten around to discussing this anyway?
“You know, we have this way of straying off topic,” he said, crooking a grin at her. “I have plans to do all sorts of dirty, unspeakable acts to you. And you keep talking.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t seem to have problems speaking the unspeakable.”
“True.” He caught her skirt in his hand, tugged her to him. “I plan on tying you up and fucking you shortly. Want to hear how I’m going to do it?”
Her breath caught. He loved the way it did that…a little hitch in her chest, like he’d just sucked the oxygen right out of her lungs. He loved it. She bit her lip and then shrugged, glancing past him to the bowl of mousse. “There’s still chocolate left.”
“Maybe we could take it with us. I wouldn’t mind seeing you spread it all over me and licking it off,” he teased.
She made a face at him. “No. I have issues with…um. Food and sex. They don’t go together.” She sank back down onto his lap and picked up the spoon. “Besides, I don’t want to miss a single bite of it.”
“Issues with food and sex, huh?”
“Yes. It’s unsanitary.” She wrinkled her nose, scooping a bite of mousse and offering it to him.
He shook his head, resting his hands on her hips. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind…a weird thing to have limits on, but no food and sex.”
“Hey, sanitary issues isn’t weird,” she said, nudging him with her finger. “It’s just like having good body hygiene after…well…”
She trailed off and he watched as a blush crept over her cheeks. “Body hygiene is important. Showers and stuff after the, ah…anal sex.”
“Absolutely.” Fuck, she was so damned cute. So damned beautiful.
“You’re snickering at me,” she said, heaving out a sigh.
“I’m not.”
“You are.” She squirmed around on his lap.
The uncomfortable look on her face had him realizing this wasn’t just a random thought firing off in her head, and something started to burn low in his gut. “If you say the T word, I’m going to get pissed,” he said mildly. “I can connect the dots well enough and I see the picture.”
One reason he didn’t mesh very well in a hardcore D/s scene was because of some of the asses he’d met. He’d encountered a few jerks, like Tim, who thought it was cool to use humiliation to ‘teach a sub’. And he already had a feeling he knew where this was going.
“Tim did everything from trying to push threesomes on me to buying a cane—which he never used—and then he started trying to cross harder lines. Said I needed ‘learn my place’ and once he tried to make me go down on him after anal. It’s disgusting.” She threw her spoon down. “He wanted a happy little sub but that was never what I wanted. He wanted me in the place he’d assigned for me and he couldn’t see that wasn’t a place I wanted.”
Sliding his hand up her back, he sank his fingers into the tight muscles of her neck, massaging them. “You only belong in the place where you want to be. And I kind of like the place you made for yourself. I don’t want you anywhere else.”
“Good.” She tilted her head and smiled at him. “You know…you were supposed to be telling me all these dirty, unspeakable things.”
Beautiful Scars Page 15
