They smile and nod. Mariah yawns and I tell them it's time to go so Mommy can get some rest.
“When can we see Mommy again, Dad,” Donnie asks, as we leave her room.
I watch Lila skip toward my mother. “Very soon, son. I promise,” I say to Donnie. He nods and runs toward Rachel.
Alex remains at my side, looking pensive. “What is it, son,” I ask as I squat to look him straight in the eyes.
“Who hit my mother?”
I startle. Wow. This kid is too smart for his own good.
“Why do you say that, Alex,” I ask, slowly.
He looks straight into my eyes, very serious. “When we were with Uncle Toad, we saw a movie. The man got beat up and he was in the hospital. His arm was in that cast thing like Mommy has and he had the purple marks on his face, too.”
I think back. The kids were not alone with Matthew at all during this week.
“When did you see that with Uncle Toad, Alex?”
He shrugs. “When I was three with Donnie. I liked the dog in that movie. His name was Verdell.”
Holy shit. Alex is eidetic. I look at Donnie and wonder if he is, too.
I look back at Alex and decide to be honest with him.
“Son, some very bad, disturbed people hurt your mother. One of them is in jail and the other two died. They won't hurt her again, I promise.”
“They died? They are not with Grandpa Donald or the other twins, are they?”
I look down and see his shoe is untied. I reach and tie it for him trying to think of the best way to answer that, mentally taking note to talk to Lil about therapy.
“No, they are nowhere near your Grandpa or the twins, Alex.”
“Good. That must mean they're in hell where they belong. Thanks for tying my shoe, Dad.”
He runs off to my mother. I chuckle as he goes, then turn back to Mariah's room, thinking maybe he doesn't need therapy. Still, I'll talk to Lil. And to Matthew. That movie is so unsuitable for three-year-olds.
* * *
Mariah through herself into physical therapy. In the past three days, she's had eight sessions. She tried to get twelve, but Ira became stern and told her it's too much.
“Slow down, you'll get there,” he said. I had to agree.
I arranged for Lil to match Mariah with a therapist. Mariah was very rude and angry with him but he assured me it was a good thing; that she was projecting her anger of the events onto him. He said he wouldn't take it personally and he was not going to give up on her. He didn't.
* * *
I had the kitchen remodeled while she was in the hospital and she was grateful for it. I had everything replaced, including the floors. I even had the floor plan changed. The kitchen now looks like the one in our old apartment.
I wanted nothing to remind her of what happened to her in there, but something that would make her happy and relaxed. If that wasn't enough, and she wanted to move, I'd be all for it.
She didn't. She loved it and we stayed.
Our mothers came with to have Mariah’s casts removed and the real therapy began four days later. Mariah was anxious to get started. She made Madison set a date so she could have a goal. The physical therapist said she should be good to go by mid-November, but Madison and Matthew chose January twenty-sixth to wed, giving her more time hoping she would slow down. They forgot who they were talking about.
* * *
I took off two months to take care of my wife and she's had the casts off for six weeks. I've been working like a demon for a month, relieving the other pediatricians that took over for me in my absence. Now I have three days straight off and I'm looking forward to it.
I walked into the kitchen and threw my bag on the counter and grabbed a beer. It hasn't gone unnoticed that we haven't had sex in three months. One hundred and seven days, to be exact and I miss her. She's been looking really good lately. Real, real good but I've been reluctant to approach her. Instead, I've waited for her to approach me.
I looked around when I noticed the house was silent. “Mariah,” I call out.
“In here,” she calls back. “The TV room. Don't come in yet.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Um... I did something today, boo. Something you asked me never to do, but you should understand that I had to,” she says softly.
I put the bottle on the counter then leaned on it. “What did you do?”
She mumbles something softly.
“I'm sorry, you cut what?”
“My hair, boo. I cut my hair.”
I sigh. “Okay. I agree you needed to. Let me see it.”
“I'm still me, Marcus. It'll grow back,” she pleads.
“I can live with whatever it looks like, baby. I'm just so grateful you're okay.”
She paused a moment, then sighing, says, “Okay. Come in.”
I take a deep breath and walk to the TV room. I turn the corner and she's standing in the middle of the room, in a long, clinging purple nightgown. I look her up and down and become erect. Immediately. I've never been this hard in my entire life.
I slowly walk over to her and look at her hair. It's about an inch long on the sides and back, maybe two inches on the top. It's also colored a rich burgundy. The style and color makes her eyes look bigger, makes them pop out.
She looks sexy as fuck. More beautiful than ever. I want her. Bad. Right now. I groan and my hand squeezes my mouth, telling myself to calm down. If she’s not ready for me, I’m moving into the bathroom with a tub full of ice and put an ice company on speed dial and not coming out until it’s time to go back to work.
“Where are the kids?”
“At Mom's. They'll be back in the morning. I gave the staff a night off, too.”
I pull out my cell as I circle around my wife. God, she looks good!
“Hi, Marcus. Is everything all right?”
“Hi, Rachel. Everything’s fine. I need the kids to come back Saturday morning, instead of tomorrow.”
She chuckles. “Does that mean you like Mariah’s haircut?”
“I love it. Very much,” I murmur as I stare at Mariah’s cleavage.
“I’m glad. I hope you two have fun. I won’t call until right before I bring them home Saturday and I’ll tell everyone else not to either. Sound good?”
“Absolutely. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm beyond ready to get started.”
Mariah grins at me as I power off the phone.
“Does that mean you like the haircut?”
“I love it, baby. You look very sexy.”
“And that call... does it mean you're finally ready to make love with me again?”
I look at her face and frown. “Huh? You've been waiting for me?”
“Yes.”
I chuckle. “I've been waiting for you!”
My beautiful wife grins. “Race you to the bedroom?”
“Fuck that,” I shout as start stripping then rushed her to the couch. “In here! We need to be close to the kitchen. No sense in wasting time coming all the way from the bedroom when we get hungry or thirsty. Now shut up and get that pretty gown off before I rip it to shreds.”
She giggled and lifted her gown over her head and I groaned long and loud when I stared at her beautiful naked body. Her scarring from her surgery is minimal and barely visible. Rob, Ira and Melvin did excellent jobs.
My baby is perfect again and I was determined to show her that.
I kissed and sucked and licked and fucked her for thirty-six hours straight. She didn't leave me alone either. She was aggressive and giving and took just as much as she gave. Just like her old self. Best time of my life.
Until Matthew and Madison’s wedding day… rather night.
###
Ryanne Anthony is a lifelong writer and avid reader. She enjoys sharing her stories and creating new worlds and putting them on paper.
Ms. Anthony is from the Midwest, born and raised, and is a happily wedded wife and mother of a boy and a girl, one each of the human and furry species.
/>
Social Media
Website: http://www.AuthorRyanneAnthony.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorRyanneAnthony
Fanpage: http://www.facebook.com/RyanneAnthony.26
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/_RyanneAnthony_
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/RyanneAnthony26
Instagram: https://instagram.com/_ryanneanthony_
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Ryanne-Anthony/e/B00M2BUPAU
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/RyanneAnthony26
Tsu: http://www.tsu.co/RyanneAnthony
Other works by Ryanne Anthony:
Honey Babe
BROKEN (TheM Series, Book One)
TheMSeries, Book Two:MARIAH
TheMSeries, Book Four:MADISON
The M Series, Book Five:MATTHEW
TheMSeries, Book Six:MONICA
TheM Series, Book Seven:MAJOR
TheM Series Finale:MENDED
Effection:
An M/Negative Ion Series Companion Novel
FALLING: Book One of the Negative Ion Series
DESPAIR Book Two of the Negative Ion Series
FELL: Finale of the Negative Ion Series
More soon!
Keep reading for an excerpt from
TheMSeries, Book Four:MADISON…
ONE
I Seriously Need a Life Coach
Groaning, I blink my eyes open and slowly look around the room. I don’t recognize anything. Where the hell am I? Think... um... shit! Nothing.
Okay, okay... don’t panic.
Don’t panic? Right! I barely remember my name… Madison Yvonne King.
Good. Now that that’s cleared up, sit up and think.
“AH,” I yelp as I roll my palm on my forehead. Damn it... I have the worst headache. Was I drinking last night? Stupid question... better one would be, what was I drinking last night? This is definitely a hangover.
Think, Madison, think!
I sigh heavily, remembering the night my soul mate/best friend tapped my temple and snapped at me to listen to my conscience more. I wanted to strangle her but two days later, she proved to be right.
It was the night Terrance broke off with me after I finally admitted I loved him and I was only sixteen and not nineteen as I had claimed. He shouted that I didn’t love him; that it was a crush because I had no idea what love was and was too young to understand it. He stormed from the hotel room and never looked back. I never saw him again. I was hurt and angry, but he was right. It was a crush with benefits.
Now, I listen to my conscience and try not to answer her. Verbally, that is.
Okay, think... I went to the bon voyage party for Craig and... Jesus! Nothing! And I still don’t know where I am. It’s obviously a hotel room. What’s on the night stand? A pamphlet. A.H.? I’m in the Allenton? Damn it... that’s where the party was!
I swing my legs off the bed and wince. Why the hell is my sex sore? Oh, no! I am totally fucking naked! HO-LY HELL! I had sex last night... with Brad? No... Brad had the nerve to walk in with some blonde, blue-eyed, silicone-filled, wannabe goddess last night. To my boss’ going away party. No way was he getting any from me after that.
God, I haven’t been this sore since Matthew. Wait… no. No way was it him.
Then who? THINK!
Okay... I remember talking to James, but he’s married and I would never...
You were drunk...
That’s true! Wait... I was also talking with Ronald, an A.D. and Ben, a sound engineer. Was it one of them? SHIT! I can’t remember... fucking alcohol!
And now I’m talking to myself. Fucking wonderful.
The room is silent… the whole suite is. I must be alone. Great. Whoever it was didn’t have the nerve to stay and face me. Maybe it was James... and he had to run home to his wife and just left me here. Shit! What have I done? Oh, God... I hope we were safe!
I peek in the trash can and sigh my relief. There’s a used condom in the trash... no, there’s more than one... 1, 2, 3? Three fucking condoms? We must have went at it all night! Wow... too bad I can’t remember any of it.
All night? Oh, no! What time is it? Where’s the fucking clock?!
I see the time and screech as I jump off the bed. I only have fifty-one minutes to get ready and be seated at the anchor desk. I’m going to be so late! Where the hell are my clothes? My purse is on the floor by the bed. What the hell is it doing there? I quickly search for my other things, wincing as I move. I’m frustrated and excited at the same time as I move about the room.
In the suite’s living area, I see my panties first and decide I can do without those for now. I find my bra next and... Whew! There’s my dress! I can wear that to the studio... Okay, now where are my shoes? I look around as I stuff the panties into my purse. I should check the wallet... yes! All there!
Okay, I wasn’t raped or robbed. Feeling better already, I hurry to the bathroom. I’ll just tidy myself up and shower at work. I should have a suit in my office closet. I may have to go on air sans panties...
I rush from the bathroom and head for the door, finding my shoes near it. He’s still not here, whoever the hell he was. I need to figure out who he is and pray he’s not married or something.
In the elevator, shake my head. I cannot believe Brad brought his side chick to my boss’ party. I know we weren’t exclusive but I think I was starting to feel... something... for him and I thought he was getting there, too.
Let me quit lying. I wasn’t feeling shit from or for his ass. Still... why was he there?
I’m going to miss his sexcapades, though... he loved everything and he loved to teach. That’s all right, fucker... you tall, handsome, dickless, vanilla ice cream-colored freak you! My next man will appreciate your tutelage, just like you enjoyed Terrance’s.
Who said Jewish men aren’t players? Whoever started that rumor should be strung up by their privates and hung upside down from them on a rusty hook.
I need to call my assistant. I pull out my cell as I exit the elevator. Once outside, I put my arm up to hail a cab and get one almost immediately.
“WBN Studios, please,” I tell the driver as he leers at me. Irritated, I shake my head. I’m pretty… I get it… now drive, asshole.
I frown and speed dial Gia Montgomery, my under-appreciated, irreplaceable assistant.
“Madison! Thank God! I’ve been calling you for over an hour! Where the hell are you?”
“I’m in a cab now but I was at the Allenton; I drank too much and spent the night. Can you check which suits I have in the closet and if there’s underwear?’
The cabbie grins.
“Sure. Good thing you’re near; you’re already cutting it close. I have your pages already and you have that phone meeting with your agent this morning, after first broadcast. Oh, and brace yourself: Adam was just here. He is looking for you and he is not happy.”
I groan. I have no idea why my producer, Adam Michaels, has such a problem with me. Ever since we met, when I interviewed at the station three years ago, he has treated me with indifference and barely contained tolerance. Total dick. If he wasn’t such a bear to me, we could actually be friends. Well... friendly, at least.
“Is he ever? God, what did I do now? Any idea what’s on his mind, Gia?”
“No,” Gia sighs. “But when he got here around a quarter to four, he was actually in a good mood for a change; he had a slight bounce in his step and was actually smiling. He looked even more handsome than usual.”
Every female at WBN-Chicago thinks Adam is Adonis descended from the heavens. I did, too, for a minute, but then attorney Bradley Winston Gold walked into the studio with his celebrity client during my second week of work here and I thought nothing more of Mr. Michaels.
“Adam smiled? Wow. Sorry I missed that. Gia, stall him if he comes back. I’ll be there in two minutes and I’m going straight to the shower.”
The cab swerves and I scowl at the driver in the rear view. Rolling my eyes, my mind screams,
You just lost your tip, fucker!
“Will do. You have the navy pant suit and the purple skirt suit. And I see a bag from Victoria’s Secret in here, too... Yep, two sets of underwear. You’re all set. I’ll start the water for you.”
I forgot about Brad’s gift last week from his favorite store.
“Thanks, Gia. Have you seen Kristen yet?”
“Yes, she’s in makeup.”
Good. I need to talk to her. My college roommate Kristen Kelly has been my friend since freshman year at NYU and now she’s my co-anchor at WBN. Hopefully, she can help me figure out what the hell happened last night since she does shit like this all the time.
“Okay. I’m coming in the door. See you in a minute.”
I press end then pay the driver and as I walk toward the studio’s entrance, I can feel him staring at my ass. I turn and look back at him with a scowl on my face. He takes off like he’s in a drag race.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
I see our day security guard, Mr. Archer, manning the desk and smile as he buzzes me through. He reminds me of my grandfather on my mom’s side. As usual, with the female staff, he jumps up and escorts me to the elevators.
“Good morning, Mr. Archer. How are you?”
“Having a pleasant morning, Madison. Everything all right with you? Not like you to be late.”
“Everything’s great, thank you. I just had too much fun at Mr. Long’s going away party last night and overslept.”
“All right.” He smiles warmly as he pushes the elevator call button. The doors open immediately. “Well, break a leg on the show this morning. Have a good day.”
“Thank you, Mr. Archer. Good day to you, as well.” I smile again as I enter the elevator.
I get a memory flash as the elevator whisks me up. I’m kissing last night’s mystery lover with a fever, in the hotel’s elevator, and his hands are everywhere on my body. He kisses me lower and then bites at my throat. He murmured something.
Marcus: The M Series, Book Three Page 35
