by R. E. Laurel
“That’s fine.”
“They texted him all week long but he never returned any of there. Even their calls, nothing in return.”
Maren recalled him going through his phone and deleting a lot of items without even listening. “Hey, Stan. I got you. I understand. Thanks for the call.”
“I hope I helped, someway.”
***
The night she and Victor talked kept replaying in her mind. His tone of voice seemed so sincere to the point that she wanted to believe him. One time she did and then later that doubt struck her again. Stan’s phone call slightly calmed her down and helped her think. And every day she got flowers. A smile flirted on her lips as she thought of her house full of beautiful poinsettias.
Today she and Belinda were both off and decided to have lunch and shoot the breeze. They arrived at one of the local pub restaurants and sat in a corner booth and it didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to Victor.
“I really need this,” Maren began as they studied the menu.
“It has been awhile. Let me cut to the chase. What is going on? Ice water, please.” She added when the waitress approached them.
“Same for me, thanks,” Maren said. “I miss him. I miss him so damn much that, as he said, it will ache deep inside.”
“Are you going to give him another chance?”
“Yeah, I miss him,” Maren repeated.
Belinda sat back, a look of relief on her face. “I am so happy to hear you say that. What made you change your mind?”
“His tone of voice. The look of fear, yes I think it was fear on his face, of losing me. He spilled his guts out about how he used to be. What he revealed about his past is just that, his past. So what, I was the good girl all of my life but you know what, I could have been loose too and I think that if I were that wouldn’t matter to him.”
Belinda nodded and grinned.
“Excuse me.”
They looked up to find a lady they guessed in her late fifties wearing a full-length black velvet coat with crystal embellished collar. Her coach purse was black and beige with a drop strap. She clutched at it as if she were worried at any moment someone would snatch it and run away. Her long hair was worn loose with a fluff of bangs over her forehead.
“Yes?” Maren asked her.
“Which one of you ladies is Maren Wilson?”
“I am,” Maren answered while Belinda pointed at her. “May I ask your name?”
“My name is not important but my son’s life is. You are having an affair with my son, Victor. You need to leave him alone. He is not what he appears to be. He is a playboy and it doesn’t matter how often his father and myself talk to him, he refuses to listen.”
Maren looked at her but her eyes rolled to Belinda and back. “Pardon me but you need to stop.” Maren began to argue.
“Victor has a girl that he has been ignoring for the past two months and she is very upset about it. I strongly suggest that you call it off, immediately.”
Maren’s eyebrow arched at the absurd statement his mother said. Maren remained silent as she rattled on for what seemed like hours, degrading Victor to her until, taking all she could, she stood to look face to face.
“What Victor does needs to be kept private. You have no right to announce anything anywhere so now leave before I call the manager and have you tossed out. If you really are his mother. A mother would never speak so badly of her child.”
Maren watched as she lifted her chin a trifle before turning to leave them. Noticing the others shooting her curious looks, she smiled as she took her seat.
“Do you believe her?”
“Do you think she really is his mom?” Belinda wondered.
“She was a piece of work,” Maren scoffed.
“Enough of her. You know what would be funny? Go to his apartment when he isn’t there and put on one of his shirts, nothing else and surprise him. Makeup sex is the best.”
CHAPTER 24
Maren sat in her car staring at the garage entrance of Victor’s apartment building. She should probably park on the street where he wouldn’t notice her vehicle. She could not believe what she was going to do. Damn Belinda and her bright idea.
“Let’s move before backing out,” she muttered hoping to encourage herself. She got out, hefting her bulky purse over her shoulder to approach the front doors of the building.
The doorman stepped in front of her as she attempted to get into the apartment complex where Victor lived. She stepped to the side, he followed while staring her down.
Her eyes narrowed, “Excuse me, please. I am to meet with Victor Neal.”
“Don’t you all,” he sarcastically replied.
Maren bristled with his insolence towards her. “I am telling the truth. We work at Neal’s uptown.”
He slowly shook his head. “Lady there is nothing you can say that I haven’t heard before. Mr. Neal is no longer available.”
“Because I am his girlfriend. Oh, wait.” She swung her purse from her shoulder to dig out her phone. She proceeded to go to the folders where her pictures were. “Here. Look.” She turned her phone around to show him photos of them together.
He studied them and then looked at her. “Your name?”
“Maren.”
Recognition hit him. Mr. Neal mentioned he was in a serious relationship and proceeded to tell him her name.
“I apologize Miss Wilson. Go on in.” He stepped aside. Touching the brim of his hat with a finger, she walked past.
“Thank you.”
Her boots made squeaks and squeals on the highly polished marble floor as she approached the concierge standing behind the desk. She gave him a smile. “I’m Maren Wilson and seem to have forgotten my key to Victor Neal’s apartment.”
He looked down his long nose at her. “Really.”
She nodded as he looked over her head, gaining confirmation from the doorman then back at her. “But, of course.” Turning, he removed a card and gave her, “Penthouse, top floor.”
“I do know where a penthouse is.” She returned just as smug as he treated her. With a sweet grin, she turned away and hurried to the elevator. Pausing to gain more courage, her finger tapped the letter P on the control sending the elevator up. The doors opened to the Penthouse and she entered.
“Vic?” She asked praying he wasn’t here yet. Earlier she phoned Stan and asked if he knew where Victor was and found out he was in a meeting with the big man. She guessed his father.
She switched on a light and lowered them before she entered through the foyer of gray marble tiles, white walls and nature paintings on the walls. Her first time here she didn’t take the time to look around. Continuing to the luxuriant living room she was taken by surprise by his taste. It was so close to hers with heavy wood furnishings. The ceiling to floor windows offered a beautiful view of the sun setting over the lake casting the last of its rays to shimmer through the clouds. Turning towards a corridor, she went to where she guessed his bedroom would be. After opening the third door, she located the masculine room done in gray painted walls and deep plum curtains.
She gasped at the luxuriant king-sized canopy bed of chestnut wood embellished with elm, cherry, and pecan veneer that is definitely the main eye-catching item. The high curved headboard boasted of the many different tones of wood. It had thick four posters and were beautifully carved with finials on the top of each one. The matching pieces were just as rich. Eyes wide, she walked past it.
Taking a deep breath, she muttered, “This idea is nuts. Leave it to Belinda to suggest and me to be stupid enough to follow through.”
Going to a spacious walk-in closet, she found an overabundance of clothing hanging. Dress shirts in every imaginable color hung according to their color then came a multitude of casual wear ranging from stylish sweaters to hanging out hoodies followed by hanging three-piece suits. Opening drawers she found tons of denim jeans folded. And the shoes!
“Shit, I thought I owned a department store of shoes.”
Sighing, she turned back to the dress shirts and withdrew a white one. Quickly she removed her coat and clothes, leaving on a white lace bikini panty and slipped into the shirt which she swam in. She rolled the sleeves to reach just below her elbow. Going to his ties she put on a bright red tie with Christmas trees scattered on it. Moving to the full-length rectangular mirror, she watched as she tied it, leaving it loose at her neck and to dangle between her breasts. She was stunned to see it reached to her hips. Taking a deep breath she buttoned three buttons at just below her breast to her belly button, then undid them. Tipping her head to the side, she decided to leave them undone, the tie keeping just enough of her hidden.
Reaching into her purse she withdrew cherry red lipstick and applied it to her lips. Next was her hair. She tousled it and then removed hairspray to put on. Smacking her lips together, she studied her reflection and loved it. Next was the decision on where she should be when he gets home.
She strolled through his apartment, checking out areas. First, she posed in front of the window and decided she would get lost in the vast landscape. Stepping onto the couch, she perched on the edge of the top and tried different positions for her legs. Feet out, knees together as she faced him? Twirling, she placed a foot on the top, the other bracing on the seat then put an elbow on her knee and looked at the door.
Nope.
“Shit, where?”
Scanning the room, she noticed the dining room chair, the end ones had arms. Even these were in the same thick wood style as his bedroom furniture. With a smile, she struggled to retrieve it and placed in his line of vision when he would enter. Sitting down, she draped her left leg over the arm, resting her back on the other arm and let her right leg stretch to the floor.
Nope.
Sighing she turned to face the door, both feet on the floor. Her right leg stretches out, her left foot bracing on the leg of the chair. She leaned her left elbow on the arm her right hand placed on the inside of her knee.
“Yes,” she whispered and just in time as she heard the elevator returning. Licking her lips to make them appear even wetter, she proceeded to make them pout in what she hoped looked seductive. Slightly dropping her chin, she looked up at the door. Waiting.
Victor was having a trying afternoon since his mother arrived at the store and begin to lecture him about love. After ten minutes he told her that he was busy and promised to speak with her this evening. Even after telling her that she remained adamant to speak with him. So here she was, coming to his apartment to have a talk with him. And she hadn’t quit from the time he got out of his car in the parking garage to now as they rode in the elevator. And Stan told him that Maren called but he was in a damn meeting with the other monster of his parents.
“Mother, you can stop talking about love to me. Her friend called and told me what you did. I am in love with Maren and I had it all under control until you showed up and told her so many fucking lies about me!”
“They weren’t all lies,” she countered.
Victor gave her a glare then looked in defeat to the ceiling of the elevator. Looking back at his mother, he added.
“Maren is a down-home lady. I don’t want anyone else.”
He stopped talking as the door opened. Pausing, he wondered about the lights turned on. He couldn’t remember turning them on when he left today.
“Victor, how do you know she isn’t just after your money. You know how they are. Those low life’s find out who you are and will stop at nothing to get your attention. It’s just so disrespectful. I was looking out for your well-being.”
They continued down the corridor towards the living room. Coming to a fast stop, his mother stopped next to him.
Victor’s eyes widened at the luscious vision sitting in front of him wearing his shirt, a tie, and from the looks of it, nothing else. “Oh Christ, oh god, oh good lord,” he quipped, quickly removing his coat to rush at Maren.
“What on earth!” His mother squealed.
Though her body shook in tiny spasms of nervousness, she kept the pose. Suddenly she heard a woman’s voice mingled with his. Fear filled her. Slowly she stood hoping to sneak away before they appeared. Then she heard his voice.
“Oh Christ, oh god, oh good lord.”
She stopped, frozen to the spot at the surprise in Victor’s voice. Maren blinked in time to see the same woman verbally attacking him at the restaurant. His mother stopped beside him before his coat covered her. He turned her away, showing her to his bedroom.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Maren whimpered, grasping his coat tight around her. “That’s really your mother!” she squealed once they were out of earshot.
Victor closed the door behind them, bracing his hands on his hips as Maren spun to face him.
“Your mother!” she repeated, her face grimacing, brows lowered showing how upset she is.
His lips quivered from trying not to laugh at the situation. He loved the look on his mother’s face when she saw the nearly naked woman in his apartment.
“For the love of god, say something!”
“Damn, but you’re beautiful.”
“Victor” she whined.
He wrapped his arms beneath the shirt she wore, feeling the heat of her flesh beneath his hands. Pulling her against him in an embrace. His heart rapidly beat with the knowledge that Maren came to him and he didn’t want to let her go but knew he had to deal with his mother. He stepped away reluctantly releasing his hold on her.
“Keep that on. I love the direction it’s going,” he suggested. “It’s all fine, gorgeous.” He added with a light laugh as he fought to control an all outburst of merriment.
He approached his mother who now sat in the chair that Maren occupied. She stood suddenly noticing a difference in him. He acted more mature instead of as a spoiled man.
“She must be pretty special.”
“She is. I love that little enchantress.”
“With that, I will be taking my leave. Have a good night.”
Grinning, he waited for his mother to leave as he looked in the direction his gorgeous Maren waited. Sitting on the couch, he removed his shoes and socks, and then his phone to place on the end table.
“Coast is clear, Maren!” he called out. Standing he waited for her to appear and fell deeper in love if that was possible. With caution, she appeared in the corridor. She stretched her torso as though searching for his mother. Coming nearer, she tugged his shirt tighter against her.
“This isn’t how I planned for this to happen,” she glumly stated, not missing the half grin on his lips. He held out his arm, his fingers flicking for her to come nearer. She slipped her hand in his and let him lead her back to the chair. Pausing, his hands went to the shirt she wore and straightened it and the tie. Urging her to sit, he placed a sweet kiss on her cheek and walked away, picking up his a remote as he went.
Curiously, she watched him. He still hadn’t said anything else. “Vic?” He rose his hand, pointing a finger in the air in front of his lips in a be quiet gesture. She watched as he pushed a button and set the remote down. Her mouth dropped open at a familiar heavy beating song began to play from hidden speakers. Her gaze went to him and the devilish glint in his eyes and mischievous smile.
“Oh shit,” she whispered, watching wide-eyed at him as he began walking towards her, his eyes caught her attention.
In one move he lifted his shirt over and off of him. Giving it a toss over his shoulder he started dancing, pivoting his hips as he came nearer. Easily he straddled her legs. His hand gripped her neck, moving her near his stomach before he released her and moved away. His stomach gyrated, moving his groin against her. He felt her fingers clutch his buttocks while he gave her a quick lap dance before moving away. Grasping his tie, he plucked her to her feet. Guiding her onto the floor he followed and proceeded to sensuously slide his body over hers.
Maren was in a mild state of shock but thoroughly enjoying him. Suddenly, she felt herself be lifted to her feet then picked up. Her l
egs wrapped around his hips. With his lips on her neck, he walked to the wall, pinning her between it and him still gyrating against her. He stopped as the song kept playing.
Looking at her still stunned face he said, “I’ve been watching the wedding scene.”
“I see that.” She gasped.
Before she managed to say anymore he carried her to his bedroom and tossed her in the middle of his king-sized bed. He stood over her, his gaze taking in how she lay with his shirt opened revealing the curves beneath and his tie fallen to the side. Her knees slightly bent pressed together. Looking at her face he saw desire and want. She was his first in his apartment and she’ll be his last, he vowed as he slowly undid his pants to remove and then his underwear. He moved to cover her body with his and to reclaim the love of his life.
CHAPTER 25
Maren woke up among a mass of tangled bedsheets. Sitting up she looked around the room to find herself alone on the floor next to the bed. Sitting taller, she looked at the mattress to find no one there. A giggle escaped from her at the memory of how they ended up on the floor. During the night and the few times during lovemaking Victor rolled over and down they went, together. She landed on top of him, held in strong arms. After the surprise fall, they picked up where they left off.
“Such a lover,” she mused, looking up as he walked through the door wearing ragged denim jeans the tie she wore last night and a fantastic smile.
“Your bath is drawn.” He reached out to take her hand in his to help her stand from the mound of material. With appreciative eyes, he watched as she walked to the master bath without covering up. At the door, he let her alone for privacy.
She gingerly stepped into the soaker tub made of copper with claw feet. Sliding deep into it, the suds reached to her chin. Looking beside her were knobs. “Don’t tell me with whirlpool.” Pushing them on she closed her eyes and went into instant relaxation. “This is heaven,” she murmured while thinking about last night and their many encounters between sleep. “Well, almost.”
They spent the day lounging in the bed or on the couch watching television and talking.
