Karma (21 page)

Marcy
rose early Monday morning, grinning at the wonderful smell of Douglas Fir that
permeated the entire house. Showering and dressing, she put the coffee on, and
let Ziggy inside. He was overjoyed to see her, greeting her as if she were a
long lost loved one that he hadn't seen for years instead of hours. Afraid that
his delirious snuffing and huffing would wake the household, she pet and rubbed
him until he settled down.

Mike
walked in with a towel over his shoulder, wearing swim trunks and an
irrepressible, breath-stopping grin. His devoured her with his gaze making her
lightheaded and giddy. The way his eyes drank her in made her feel as if she
made his life worthwhile. He had said as much many times.

She
was glad that they had moved in with him.

He
kissed her good morning, a slight touch to the cheek, and went for his morning
laps. If it hadn’t obviously been his daily routine of years, Marcy would have
considered that he was intentionally teasing her.

The
man was built. Broad swimmer's shoulders, flat stomach, tight ass.
Wow
.
The hair he had lost on his head seemed to have gravitated to his chest. The
latest Superman actor had hair on his chest. Wolverine had hair on his chest.
But Mike's broad buff chest was covered like a thick black rug.

Marcy
wanted to run her fingers through it.

By
the time Katie was up, Marcy had bacon and eggs ready and Mike had showered and
dressed. Katie was going back to school today, but Marcy had the day off. Mike
seemed to work any schedule he wanted.

Marcy
considered that with all the changes in her life, she would be suffering some
sort of mental and emotional whiplash. This wasn't the case at all. Somehow
Katie and Marcy fit into Mike's home and life seamlessly.

Mike
was a touchy sort of guy, naturally giving Katie a shoulder squeeze and peck on
the cheek goodbye when they dropped her at school. The man acted more like a
father to Katie than her real father ever had.

After
dropping Katie at school, they took Ziggy for a walk at Sunset Park. This time
Mike tossed the Frisbee and Ziggy played fetch while they strolled around the
park, holding hands and chatting. It felt good to walk together while
companionably holding hands. Natural, yet also special.

"So
how many women have you slept with?" she asked.

Mike
arched an eyebrow and squeezed her hand. There was mischief and delight in his
eyes. "Oh good. Personal stuff. I get to ask you the same question
now." He frowned as if he were thinking, or perhaps counting.

"What,
is it that many?"

"No.
Five."

"Seriously?
So low?"

"Other
than a couple of times when I tried it, I just don’t do casual sex. I prefer to
masturbate rather than have sex with a stranger. I just don't see the point
without knowing and liking the person. My friends all think I'm a big
girl."

She
chuckled. "Well, you said that you're like my best girlfriend,
remember?"

His
slow smile had a naughty curl in it. "Not for long, I hope. Which reminds
me, I've had my doctor take blood tests to check for any STDs. I'll get the results
back next week. You told me before that you were tested after Trent left?"

"Yep."

"And
you haven’t had sex since?"

"Nope."

"Good,"
he said with a playful grin. It was such a turn-on, this mischievous side of
him. Mike was lighthearted and happy, and that made Marcy happy. "Next
week I'll get my results back," he said, still flirting. "Then you'll
know that it's perfectly safe to have sex with me." He cocked his head and
gave her a naughty look.

"I
can't tell you how relieved I am," Marcy said with a dry, mocking smirk.
"Don't think that a change of subject will get you out of a discussion
about your ex-girlfriends. I still want details."

He
laughed and told her about his first time. He had imagined that he was in love,
but for his older partner, it was the fun of seducing a virgin. He had been
twenty, and she had broken his heart.

Mike
had his first one night stand not long after that, mainly because of his
friends who took him out intending to get him laid. They couldn’t stand his pathetic
dejection from being rejected. Sexual gratification with a stranger had left a
bitter taste in his mouth. Making love was something to share with someone
important. Paying for it was not just wrong. It seemed like sacrilege. That had
put him off sex for a few years.

Next
came a woman he had a long term relationship with while in the army in Germany.
They had gotten on well, and cared for each other, but culture and upbringing
created too many difficulties.

He
explained how he had met Barbara when he came back to Las Vegas. It was a
whirlwind romance and marriage. He had known that she was the one for him. After
she died, André convinced him to have sex with one of the submissive women
around during one of André's many parties.

"How
did that work out?"

He
shook his head. "Not that well. Don't get me wrong. The sex was good. It
was just that I didn’t know her. Again, it was a physical act of indulgence - a
body thing. Sex to me is about heart and soul. Sex means something. When I have
sex, I make love." He paused and looked intently into her eyes. "I
want to make love to you."

With
a straight face, Marcy raised a knowing eyebrow at him, a smile of approval
tugging at her lips. She was getting used to the idea.

"So
what about you?" he asked. "How many lovers have you had?"

Frowning,
Marcy shrugged. "With my strict upbringing I'm kind of a poster child for
a life lesson, a cautionary tale," she said. "I had classic
rebellion. My dad was a good father, but he was not much of a communicator. He
yelled a lot. He was a 'My way or the highway' kind of guy."

"Oh
yeah?" He stared at her, well aware that she hadn’t answered the question.
That she seemed to be talking about something else.

Marcy
smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'm getting to the 'how many' answer. The
thing is that I don’t honestly know how many lovers I've had."

Her
reply shocked him.

Mike's
face remained bland, but his eyes flashed first in confusion, then in surprise.
She could imagine the wheels in his brain turning while he tried to work it
out. It made her giggle, and her amusement surprised him, too.

Ziggy
returned at a gallop, placing the Frisbee at her feet. Marcy took the Frisbee
and threw it as far as she could. Ziggy bolted off to get it.

It
wasn't actually funny, but his reaction kind of was.

Marcy
huffed out a breath. "When I turned sixteen I told my parents I was
staying at a girlfriend's house, and she told her parents that she was staying
at mine," she said. "Typical, you know?"

Mike
nodded.

"We
went out to a college kegger and I drank for the first time. Boy did I drink! I
felt so grown up. Happy and uninhibited. After that I honestly don’t remember
what happened. When I woke up in the morning I had lost my virginity."

"That's
terrible! Do you know who?"

"Nope."
She shrugged. "It could have been more than one boy, you see? How would I
know? I'm just glad there are no naked pictures of me on the internet."

Mike
shook his head. "What happened to your girlfriend?"

"Oh,
she lost her virginity, too. But she at least had a boyfriend and remembered
it. She had tried drinking previously, so had a better idea of the
consequences."

"I'm
so sorry," Mike said, dark concern showing in his eyes. "What an
awful experience. That was a cruel lesson for a young woman to learn."

"You
got that right. I've decided that I'm going to get Katie drunk when she turns
thirteen."

"What?"

"The
thing is that I had no experience with alcohol. I had no idea about how it
lowers inhibitions. If I get Katie drunk a couple of times she can pay
attention and know what she is up for when she drinks. Anyway, that's what I
decided. What if I had experimented with alcohol under the supervision of my
parents? I would have known what alcohol can do. If I had, what happened to me
never would have happened."

"Makes
sense."

"Oh
yeah," she said. "Anyway, that put me off sex for awhile. I felt
pretty guilty. I worried about infections and pregnancy. I prayed and tried to
find forgiveness. I went all the way. I can’t even tell you how contrite I was.
You know - the usual. Attending church twice a week. Sackcloth. Ashes."
She gave him a cheeky grin, showing him that she had gotten over it.

"That
helped?" he asked.

"Sure.
That and time passing until I had other problems to worry about. Anyway, I
eventually got over that and had my first real sex after dating like a normal
girl. It was a 'Slam, bam, thank you, ma'am,' event."

Mike
nodded. With a little chuckle he added, "Sounds like what happens with a normal
to me."

She
laughed. "I decided it was all a sign. I should wait for marriage to have
sex. Then I fell in love with my ex. We didn’t have sex until we were married,
can you believe that? I think that was part of his plan. I admired that he was
willing to wait."

Marcy
could see that Mike was following, fascinated in her story. He shook his head,
apparently knowing what came next.

"Trent
wanted me to work full time to support him while he was at school. He needed my
mother's home to live in. Mom and I were his free ride. Besides, he was always getting
plenty of sex from various women – I never knew until later."

"Unfaithful
bastard."

"Oh
yeah. That's Trent," Marcy agreed. "Even though I had a huge crush on
him, and wanted to make him happy in bed – somehow I just didn’t get much out
of love making. I was so utterly awkward and self-conscious by then. Trent made
every one of my insecurities become even greater. He had me so introverted,
looking at my flaws and failures, real or imagined, that I never noticed what
he was up to."

"I
know the type. The classic 'blame others' bully. Those kinds of people can be a
real mind-fuck."

She
snorted. "Tell me about it. Anyway, I've come to the conclusion that I've had
sex and guilt mixed together."

"Good
for you," he said. "And, er… are you getting over that?"

Marcy
looked at him with a steady gaze. He didn’t blink, and his brown eyes were warm
and sympathetic. Impulsively, she took his hand and kissed it. "Yes, I am,
thank you."

Mike
pulled her into his arms. She folded into him, laying her head on his chest. His
hands roamed over her back, and she patted his. When she broke away from him, his
lips curled up in a crooked smile.

"I
appreciate how patient you've been," she said.

He
laughed. "I haven’t been patient at all."

"Yes,
you have. I do love you, you know."

Mike
gave her a chaste kiss on her forehead, yet the hungry look in his eyes was
anything but innocent. "I know," he said, a smug happy smile tugging at
his lips.

"That
was the first time I told you that!"

Marcy
squealed with surprise as Mike swung her up off the ground. She was no
lightweight, but Mike had picked her up and held her in his arms easily,
without one sign of strain. Grinning, she put her arms around his neck. Holding
her like a bride crossing the threshold in her husband's arms, he joyously spun
her in a couple of circles.

Delighted,
Marcy laughed.

"Marcy,
my own true love, you tell me you love me a hundred times a day – in actions,
not in words. The way your eyes follow me around a room, the way your pulse
kicks up and those sexy blushes and heartfelt smiles the moment you see
me." A boyish grin swept over his face. "But I sure appreciate the
words, honey."

And
there, in Sunset Park, while holding her in his arms, Mike kissed her.

Friday
night. They had been living at Mike's house for six days. Christmas was coming.
The smell of fir tree permeated the house. Their beautiful Christmas tree stood
in the family room fully decorated with its lights winking. It would be
Christmas soon, but everyday was like Christmas when living with Mike.

Just
like a real family, all three watched T.V., played badminton in the backyard,
went swimming or played silly board games together. Mike often helped Katie
with her homework.

Now
it was time for bed.

Marcy
checked in Katie's room. She was sound asleep.

At
night when they went to separate beds, Mike held back. Even though his eyes
were intense, and his desire for her obvious, his hands never strayed. He gave
her only goodnight kisses.

It
was the constant attention that Marcy found incredibly unsettling. Her nerves
were frazzled. Mike never strayed over a line, yet every time they were
together he was always touching her in some way, placing a casual hand on her
hip or lower back to guide her somewhere. Pushing a lock of hair behind her
ear, or just running his hand down her arm.

Marcy
was hyper aware of him. It was as if his body just somehow gravitated toward
hers, and her body toward his. Every time they touched it was like a sexy
electric current, arcing along her flesh.

What
a long week it had been. She had practiced masturbating every night. Last night
her sexual energy rose until the pleasant feelings built up into a painful
tension. A tiny wave came over her then, a small relief. Was it an orgasm? If
so it was nothing like she had read about. Marcy figured that she was close.
Very close.

André
had told her: "A woman must know and learn her own body."

Yeah,
yeah, tell me about it!

Sexual
tension was an invisible force between them, when Mike walked Marcy to her
bedroom door to kiss her good night. This had been a daily ritual ever since
she moved in.

Like
a couple of teenagers making out, their nightly kisses were becoming more and
more passionate. They had never made it past first base, but for the love of
God! At times Mike's mouth burned upon her lips, and felt like a home run.

Not
that long ago Marcy avoided being touched by a man. Now all her will was bent
toward it. What would it feel like to be naked with Mike? To have his hands stroke
her or his lips kiss her all over? That image made her body tingle and flush pink
with desire.

Skin
flushing. A sure sign of arousal.

The
raw sexuality of living with the man kept Marcy with a constantly dry throat, a
fluttering stomach and an internal fire that couldn’t be quenched. Not to
mention the ongoing moisture problem between her legs. She had taken to wearing
panty liners.

"How
are you going with your ah… homework?" he asked in a husky voice.

Marcy
snorted. He was referring, of course, to her attempts to make herself climax.
"You are a bad man, Mike. I thought you said no pressure."

"Oh,
no pressure," he said with a happy smirk, leaning his shoulder against her
doorframe with his arms crossed in front of him. "I was just asking. I
happen to be very good, in fact professionally trained on the subject. I was
going to simply offer my services."

Marcy
laughed. "It's the principle of the thing. I want to succeed. I..um, am
working every day very hard at it," she said, and laughed at his tormented
expression. His mind had obviously pictured her diligently attempting to make
herself climax, just down the hall from where he slept.

His
eyes darkened. "I don't mind a bit of delayed gratification, but for the
love of God! You are driving me crazy woman."

"Sorry,"
she said. "But I think I'm getting close to figuring it out. And I can’t
believe that I'm talking about this with you! André has been nagging me, too. I
have to say, the subject is getting easier to discuss. I'm embarrassed and inhibited
– damned if I know why, but I'll overcome it. And when I do, you'll be the
first to know."

Mike's
eyes glittered. "Will I?" he asked in a low seductive voice. He gave
her a slow, sexy smile, and pulled her toward him. Heat and passion rolled off
the man in waves. Just the scent of him made her dizzy.

Wide
eyed, Marcy's pulse quickened as she focused on his mouth. Mike had captured
her once more. Yet every night she walked willingly into this same trap. She
made no protest as Mike's fingertips slid up to frame her face with his big,
warm hands.

It
began as he tilted her head and nuzzled into her, burying his face against her.
Mike murmured words of adoration into her skin. His warm lips and breath teased
her flesh, sending bolts of sensation right to her core. His lips skimmed the
dips and hollows of her neck and throat. Then he ran his tongue along the shell
of her ear, sucking and nipping her ear lobe.

When
her body responded with a wave of goosebumps, she whimpered.

"I
can smell you, Marcy."

The
thought mortified her. "You're joking!"

"I
can," he said gruffly with one big hand possessively holding her nape.
"You're wet for me, slick and ready. God, I want to taste you so
badly."

His
raunchy talk shocked her, alarmed her and heated her right to the core. Marcy
moaned, and melted into him. Mike's teeth scraped along her jaw until they met
in a gentle touch, mouth to mouth. Marcy's nipples tingled, and tightened into
hard peaks as she pressed against his solid male chest.

Breasts
swelling. Nipples tightening. Lubrication. Evidence of arousal,
she automatically noted in the back of her mind.

Pliant
in his arms, Mike walked her backward, pushing her up against a wall. His swollen
male flesh pressed against her hip and stomach, his thigh burned against her
sex. Hot blood pounded between her legs. It was beginning to throb
right
there.

She
heard herself make a soft sound of pleasure. Mike deepened the kiss, moving them
both from affection to yearning. From yearning to breathless need.

Marcy
melted against him, and her arms wrapped around him. His tongue moved inside
her, deep with promise. She tasted beer and man. He licked; he sucked, and bit
her mouth, and her lips.

When
Marcy's tongue found his, she moaned with the pure rapture of it. The heat of
his body sought hers, surrounded her, and seduced her. His male scent and the
taste of him filled her senses, with dark, drugging desire.

Lip
are the primary erogenous zone of a woman,
she
recalled.
Oh yeah, you think?

Could
she have an orgasm from just his kiss? Because she didn’t think she had ever
felt anything as erotic and arousing in her life. His kisses were intoxicating,
making her whole body pulse with need.

The
moment his soft lips touched hers, as usual, the world disappeared. Somehow
when Mike was kissing her there was nothing else. Mike, holding her. Mike,
touching her. Mike filling her thoughts and senses so completely that there was
only him.

"I
want you so much," he groaned against her mouth. He pulled back from her,
his dark eyes heavy-lidded and dilated with lust. "Let me. Right now. Let
me be inside you. You know I belong there. Can you feel it?"

"Oh
fuck, I really do feel it." Marcy's chest rose and fell. Her breath was
ragged, her pulse pounding. "I swear to God if I don’t figure out how to climax
tonight, I'll come to your room anyway."

Her
arms were around his neck as she pressed her mouth against him, biting, and
licking. She wanted to taste him. Her entire body was tingling and humming with
sexual need.

"Christ,
if I do climax tonight I'll still come to you. Jesus I need your hands and lips
on me."

Mike
kissed her once more, open mouthed, demanding, plundering. At first she gasped,
and then she moaned in a mindless state of arousal. If he hadn't had her
pressed against the wall, she thought that she might just collapse in a heap.
Was she even able to stand?

Marcy
felt Mike's ribcage expand against her, as he inhaled a deep, unsteady breath. His
body was warm, safe and soothing yet also incredibly exciting.

"Shit,"
he said. "Okay. Don't think, honey. Just feel. Imagine me kissing you. Imagine
me fucking you. You can climax. Come for me, sweetheart." He gave her one
last possessive, open mouthed and all encompassing kiss. "Come for
yourself. I know you can do it."

With
another deep breath, he backed away and Marcy stood on shaky legs. "You
know where my room is."

"Yes."

Jaw
clenched tight with determination, Mike walked away. She watched him until he
was out of sight. He didn't once look back.

Every
part of Marcy's body wanted to go after him.