by Tia Louise
He’s only wearing boxer briefs, and my stomach tightens. I’m certain I shouldn’t respond to him the way I do. Not after last night. But it’s hard not to remember the feel of his muscular body against mine.
“I can wait. I need to check on Molly anyway.”
I step toward my robe, but Mark catches me and pulls me to him. “Roland said to tell you she’s safe, not to worry. And he said for you to stay here with me until he comes to get you.”
I watch his lips, thinking how nice it is not to remember anything. How nice it would be to pretend the danger is behind us. I breathe deeply, fighting the urges humming under my skin. The desire to give in and embrace him back, to stay here and act like the only thing in the world is us in this room.
“It’s probably not the best idea,” I say.
“You were just fine with it a few minutes ago.”
“I was unconscious.”
“I won’t tell anyone you woke up.”
His hands gently slide to my waist, and I rest my palms against his warm skin.
“Has it started for you? Are they trying to… make you do things for money?”
“No. Last night was something different.”
“Why are you so afraid, then? Why did Roland want me to tell you nothing had happened if he wasn’t trying to—”
“I can’t explain it all now. It’s something I said I would do. But no one’s forcing me.”
“What did you say you’d do?” His face is so full of concern, so ready to understand, but I don’t want to talk about it.
“It seems I didn’t do anything.” I step out of his embrace, toward the chair that holds my dressing gown, but he catches me by the waist.
“Don’t keep me out, Lara. Let me help you.”
I can’t answer, and after a moment of silence, he exhales and gives my hand a little pull.
“As long as you’re here, you should come back to bed. Roland could be a while, and it’s chilly this morning.”
I allow the dress shirt to slip off my shoulders, leaving me in only his white tee. “I suppose we ought to keep warm.”
We crawl into the blankets, and I snuggle close to him. His arms go around me, and I rest my head on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat, his breath swirling in and out. It’s the most soothing thing I’ve ever felt, pulses of comfort with every soft beat.
He rolls me onto my back and studies my face. “You had a bad night. I’d like to comfort you, but if you’d rather sleep, I’ll understand.”
I watch his full lips as he speaks. “My head is fuzzy, but I’m not afraid… or hurt.”
“May I kiss you?”
I slip my hand up to his cheek and guide our lips together. They barely touch when that familiar heat races from my stomach to the arches of my feet. His tongue finds mine, and my hands begin exploring everything under the blankets.
I trace the lines across his back and shoulders, and he quickly slides the thin tee up my sides and over my head. We both sigh as our bare chests press together, and his mouth covers mine.
His tongue dips once into my mouth before his lips move to my jaw, my neck. I close my eyes as waves of pleasure ripple through my stomach. His mouth is on my tight nipple, pulling, licking. He gives it a suck before kissing his way to the other side.
“Mark,” I whisper as he repeats the process, sending little sparks to my core, clenching my inner muscles.
His teeth graze my nipple, and a moan slips from my throat. A groan rumbles from his as he kisses my ribs, my waist, making his way lower.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he says against my stomach, and my toes curl.
He hooks a finger in my panties and pulls them away with one swift tug.
“Oh, God!” My back arches off the bed as his expert tongue finds my clit and begins to circle.
Circles, kisses, sucks and strokes. He’s eager, hungry, and I’m gripping the sheets, gripping his hair, writhing and crying out in ecstasy. Sparkles of pleasure shudder through my legs, and he gives my pussy one more kiss before he slides up quickly and covers my mouth with his.
My taste is on his tongue as it curls with mine. He spreads my thighs, and I feel that delicious pressure, the sizzling anticipation just before he pushes in with one deep thrust.
“Yes,” we both groan together.
He’s inside me so deep, filling and stretching me all the way to my core. Once seated, he stills, both arms beside me, the weight of his body holding me down. Our eyes meet, and his burn with so much emotion. I’m certain mine reflect the same passion, the same deep need, the same burning hunger.
Then he starts to move.
My back arches. I lift my knees, and my eyes close. My mouth opens as his thickness moves me, hitting my clit and igniting my second orgasm.
My face is buried in his neck, and I clutch his shoulders, holding on as the sparks of pleasure tingle through my limbs.
“Mark,” I cry. “Don’t stop.”
His mouth covers mine, and we kiss, long and savoring. Our mouths move again and again in time with our hips. We’re grasping and holding, hungry and consuming. He pulls back, and I follow. I move to the side, and he chases me.
Instinct takes over as my orgasm crests. My legs are tight around him, and I break, arching and moaning, feeling the spasms rippling through my insides.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, and he’s suddenly out of me.
I feel his heavy erection on my waist, and hot liquid shoots over my stomach again and again with every groan.
His forehead is against my shoulder, and he reaches down to tug his cock. My hand follows, and I mimic his movements, wanting to give him pleasure like he’s given me.
“Fuck.” It’s a shuddered whisper as I take over, wrapping my fingers around his thick shaft and gently pulling rhythmically, over and over.
I feel another pulse in my hand, another touch of heat on my stomach, and he groans so deeply.
“Lara,” he whispers, and I feel a shiver move through his body. “That’s so good.”
My pumping slows, and I kiss his sweaty cheek. I run my tongue along his jaw, wanting his salt in my mouth. I want all of him, even his come on my body.
A guilty smile is in his eyes when he lifts his head. “I didn’t have a condom.”
“You pulled out,” I say, grinning back. “Now I’m a mess.”
He leans away and glances down. “A beautiful mess.”
And in a flash he’s off me, out of the bed and grabbing the tee I was wearing. “Mark!” I shriek. “It’s freezing.”
The shirt is on my stomach, and he cleans me up fast, bundling the cotton material and dropping it on the floor before scooting in behind me again, his strong arms around my waist.
“I’ll warm you up.” His mouth is at my ear, and his beard scuffs my neck.
“Tickles!” I cry and lean forward, but he chases me, kissing the top of my shoulder blade and doing a little growly laugh.
I laugh, too, and his warmth soothes my insides. I straighten until my back is firm against his chest. His arms are solid, holding me close. My eyes start to close, and I allow my body to relax in his embrace.
He kisses my head, and the last thing I hear before I sleep is his deep voice saying, “Sleep, Angel.”
Mark
Lara is in my arms.
She’s in my bed, safe beside me.
Her eyes are closed, and I listen to the sweet whisper of her breath gently gliding in and out. I feel the movement of her chest under my arm.
I never want to let her go.
My face is buried in her silky hair, and her scent of little flowers surrounds me. It’s fresh and hopeful. I want to tell her about my plans, the money I’ve earned, and my goals for January.
Only I’m not waiting for January anymore. She’ll stay with me here from now on, and I’ll escort her to and from that fucking theater if she even wants to continue with the show.
I expect I’m fired. Can you attack your boss’s brother and still have a
job?
It changes my plan slightly, but I still have money in the bank.
And I still love her.
I love her.
The words enter my mind unbidden, and for a moment I let them stay there, take root. Lowering my chin, I place my lips against her skin and think of all the ways I love this woman. I love her laughter and her strength. I love her beauty and her talent. I love how she loves the same things as me, and even her devotion to Molly, as much as it complicates her life, I love that she won’t break her promise.
Kissing her higher, I slip my tongue out and taste her skin. It’s soft and clean, and she exhales a little sigh. She starts to wake, moving her ass right against my cock, which brings that member to life.
From my position, I see her eyes blink open, and I grin. Her gaze lowers to my fist at her breast, and she pulls my hand to her lips, placing small kisses on my fingers just above my bandage.
I kiss her neck, moving into the back of her hair, and she makes a little noise.
Add those little noises to the list of things I love.
She opens my palm and kisses it before placing it on her breast. Rocking her hips, she massages my erection with her ass, and it’s enough of an invitation for me.
I reach down to open her thighs, positioning my tip at her tight little core before sliding in to the hilt.
“Oh, fuck,” I hiss at finding her so wet and ready.
“Mark,” she whispers, arching her back as my pace quickens.
Her hands cover mine on her soft breasts, and I’m not slowing down.
My head is feverish, and a deep and primal need in me drives my thirst for more. One hand leaves mine, and she’s circling her clit. Her inner muscles contract rhythmically, and it’s more than I can take. My eyes squeeze tightly shut.
Just a little bit more.
“Mark!” she gasps, and fuck me.
I pull out quick as streams of come trail down her ass. A slim hand moves around and grips my pulsing cock, massaging and milking as I rest my head on her shoulder, riding out the blinding orgasm radiating through my ass and legs.
We gradually slow, and I pull her back against my chest again. For the space of several heartbeats, I only hold her, feeling her small body mold into mine. She’s everything. We’re everything together.
“I’ve got to get more condoms,” I whisper.
She’s giggling, and I move back, allowing her to face me. The light in her blue eyes is irresistible. I lean down to cover her mouth with mine, kissing her long and slow, curling my tongue with hers.
Slim arms wrap around my neck, and our chests press together. Warmth flows from me to her, healing the wounds, binding us together.
Leaning back, I gaze deep into her blue eyes. “I’m glad you can smile. I only want you to be happy.”
Her brow pulls, and she drops her gaze to my lips. “It’s hard to be sad when I’m here in your arms. We can almost pretend—”
“No more pretending. I’ve saved almost ten thousand dollars. We can live here for free.”
Her eyes go wide. “Ten thousand! But… but how?”
Clearing my throat, I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to know how deeply involved I am with Gavin’s illegal activities. Even more, I don’t want it to seem like I blame her for anything, from my work to my doing without.
“I’ve been saving. Since I’m watching the place for Terrence, he stopped charging me rent.”
“For how long?”
“Until he comes back in January… but by then, I hope we’ll have a place—”
“We…” She’s thinking, processing everything I’ve said. “Molly too…” It’s barely a whisper.
“Molly too.”
She moves into my arms again, resting her cheek against my chest and holding it there, tightening her arms around my waist and holding her body to mine.
“Can we really be free of that place?”
“Do you want to go back?”
“I have to go back. I have to get Molly and our things… we don’t have much, but even replacing what little we have would add up.”
My hand is in her hair, smoothing it down, holding her neck, her shoulders.
“I don’t want you to be alone there. I’ll go with you.”
“Didn’t you say Roland was coming to get me?” She leans back to study my face.
“He is, but I don’t trust him.”
Her face relaxes. “I do. Don’t worry.”
“I’m always going to worry. Until the day you’re with me for good.”
Blinking quickly she nods. She stretches up to kiss me lightly before rising to a sitting position. She leaves the bed, taking the tee from last night and using it to clean her backside. She takes the dressing gown off the chair and slowly pulls it over her body, fastening it at her waist.
“It’s time.”
Lara
My head is still thick despite having slept most of the day, but I have to get back to collect Molly and our few belongings. Mark kisses me as I pull the dark topcoat Roland brought for me over my shoulders.
“Don’t be afraid,” Mark says. “I’ll shower and change and be with you in fifteen minutes or less. Roland promises he’ll look out for you until I come.”
The sky is growing dark, and I guess it’s getting close to the start of the show. I’m not planning to perform tonight, if ever again.
After a few moments of silent walking, I notice Roland’s watching me.
“What?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask how I did it,” he says.
“Mark said you roofied us.”
He nods. “Gavin gave it to me, along with the Sazerac. You both passed out—it looked like at about the same time. Guy was in the process of undressing, so that was a fun sight.”
I shake my head, not wanting to hear this. “Thank you,” I say quietly, thinking of the mixture I poured in his glass.
“I told you to trust me.”
“Did anything else happen to him? Is he sick?”
“I don’t think so.” Roland looks straight ahead, but his hand goes to his pocket. “Worried about this?”
He holds up the small glass vial, and my lip goes between my teeth. “Did it work?”
“What was it?”
We’re less than a block from the theater, and I decide to confess. “I went back and bought heroin laced with fentanyl. I poured it in his drink. I hoped it would kill him.”
His jaw clenches, and I watch his face, waiting for what he’s going to say. He only exhales deeply. “It was a valiant effort, if life-threatening and completely stupid.”
I jerk his arm. “I had to do something!”
“Heroin doesn’t dissolve in liquid. And even if it did, by the time it finally got through his stomach, it might make him lightheaded. Today.”
My shoulders fall. “It was all for nothing.”
“I’m afraid he’d have done all he wanted with you while you were waiting for him to keel over.”
The theater yawns before us, and I shrink back, fear tightening my throat. “I can’t go in there,” I whisper.
Forget our shit. They can have it. Not my mother’s pen, not even my need to protect Molly is stronger than this fear. Standing in front of the looming edifice all the memories I didn’t know I had come flooding back. I remember his eyes, the way he ripped at my clothes, the things he said.
Roland steps in front of me and grips my arms. “Gavin has him under control. He’s been slipping him a sedative all day, telling him he has a cold.”
“And it’s working?”
“It’s working for now.” His voice is grim, and my body trembles violently. “Come on.” His arm goes around my shoulder, and he leads me to the back entrance where I see large dents in the door, and the small windows at the ground are smashed.
“What happened?”
“Mark was determined to get in last night.”
My stomach drops, and I can’t walk anymore. My emotions overwhelm me, and
of all the things I’ve forgotten, the sound of his beating on the door, his shouts, him calling my name—all of what happened before floods my mind.
“I love him,” I whisper as a hot tear falls on my cheek.
Roland pulls me into a hug, his hand on the back of my head. I feel his lips press to my temple. “I know.”
My insides are raw as we enter the back door. I follow my old friend down the corridor, and when we turn the corner, I let out a little cry. Gavin is standing in my dressing room. His face is red. Perspiration coats his upper lip.
“Can you perform tonight?” he asks, running his eyes over my body. “Tanya can’t do it.”
Roland releases me at once. “What’s happening?”
“See for yourself.”
Roland takes off down the hall, leaving me alone, facing the man behind this. The one who callously gave away Molly then saved me when I tried to take her place. My tattered emotions don’t know where to start.
“Can you do it?” Gavin repeats, watching me. I can tell he’s doing his best to maintain an air of control.
“Where’s Molly?”
“I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”
“Evie was supposed to bring her back here today.” Roland didn’t tell me if she knew what happened. I look around for my phone, but I have no idea where I left it. Perhaps it’s in the topcoat I wore to the voodoo shop.
“I still don’t see why she’s so important.” He steps to the door.
“Thank you,” I cut him off, anger flaring at his words. “For the drugs.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He’s pretending not to know, but I don’t care to question why. “I need you to take Tanya’s place. Will you do it?”
“Why should I?”
“You’ll be the star.” His eyes flicker to the dressing table. “It’s what you always wanted.”
I no longer care about being the star in hell, but walking slowly to the small table, I lift the brass pen still sitting on top. He told me to be careful with my valuables. He recognized this piece as belonging to my mother. How much loyalty do I owe to him?
