Riveted (Art of Eros #1) (6 page)

“I’ll be on my way then. You have a nice evening. Mara, I’ll see you tomorrow morning and we can talk then.” His gaze never left hers, leaving no room for negotiation. She had to give him credit; he was good at the game and definitely in control. A few tears weren’t going to deter him.

Raquelle leaned over. “Really, Mar? You left out the part where he’s tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome. The way he locked on to you tells me he’s into you. It seems to me you two made a serious connection. I would have to be around him more to tell you if he’s a player but my gut says, not where you are concerned.”

Mara couldn’t think about Mac at the moment. She stood at the precipice and she needed to take the jump. “Can we get back to what I was talking about? I’ll deal with him tomorrow, or maybe he won’t show up.” As she said it, she knew she was only lying to herself. The excitement filled her chest at the idea of spending time with him again. He affected her and somehow, she still felt connected to him. In their short time together, she convinced herself she was never going to be the woman he needed or, in the end, wanted. She couldn’t even imagine being intimate with him. Her emotions shook under her skin. What a disaster this turned into!

“Oh, honey, I don’t think Mac is anywhere near done with you yet. Nice try, though. You better buckle yourself in; it’s going to be a bumpy ride.” Raquelle spoke into her glass of pinot while swirling it around. Her smile said, been there, done that.

“Go back to what you were talking about with Brock,” Leigha said cautiously, knowing there was a lot more to the story.

Mara became very self-conscious, “Can we continue this back at the room? There’s more to all of this, but not here.” She managed to choke out her request, trying to catch the tears before they fell from her eyes. They decided to finish their meal before they left. Leigha and Raquelle exchanged several curious glances with one another. Mara ate very little food as her anxiety returned. Her alcohol consumption gave her the liquid courage she needed to continue the talk and face the music, so to speak.

~

Earlier in the day, as she sauntered away from him with that goddamn gorgeous ass of hers, he had already decided to go after her come hell or high water, and not just for a proverbial roll in the hay. Suddenly, it seemed more important than ever he have this woman. He wasn’t expecting to meet her on his holiday. One soul in search of another. Even as she turned his world upside down, he still had no idea what had come over him.

After the day’s intimacy, not being near her lacked the comfort he craved from her and only her. He had grown tired of cold, empty romps that never led to anything. Mara brought out all angles of the man he really was—caring, kind, protective, possessive and, God help him, loving. Those characteristics seemed to have slowly slipped underneath the surface. When she looked at him, he could swear she could see his soul. A soul marred from all the things life had thrown him, but wasn’t everyone’s to some extent?

She pushed and pulled at him in all the right ways, from her curiosity to her infectious laughter. He wanted her under him so she knew exactly who she belonged to. Mac would find a way for her to see the real him. He had built a wall that wasn’t working for him anymore, sharing more with her in one afternoon than he had ever shared with any woman besides Kendall. It was easy to talk to her about the things that cut the deepest because she understood the place where you teeter on the edge, afraid to look down. You cocoon yourself from the world and anchor yourself to a familiar yet dying tree, scared it would break out from under you. You hold on to what’s comfortable in order to survive. But sometimes, you need to let go of those safe things so you can fly again. He wanted to fly with Mara.

When Mac approached Mara’s table, he was stunned to see her so upset. He got the feeling her condition had nothing to do with him. She had mentioned her late husband and some revelations about her life with him. He wondered if that was the cause of her turmoil. His seat in the restaurant had his back to the wall, putting them in his line of vision. It never ceased to amaze him how much his job affected how he functioned on a day-to-day basis. It could only help with his newfound cause, Marabella Luccenzo. If he went all in for this woman, he needed to uncover everything about her. He wanted to make reading her second nature.

As Mac kept surveying their table, their discussion seemed to become quite intense. Mara pushed the food around on her plate without eating it. Her emotions were heavily tied to her appetite. They continued to eat peacefully and then the three of them suddenly stood to leave. Mara appeared dazed as her sisters led her out of the restaurant. Their close interactions told the story of a tight-knit unit. They had each other’s backs, Mara being their sole focus.

In his heart, he hoped somehow her late husband hadn’t hurt her, but his head told him there was a distinct possibility he left behind invisible scars. He couldn’t imagine anyone hurting Mara. He suspected she put everything into her marriage. She exhibited beauty, humor and kindness, with an unexpected innocence. He was sure all her sculptures reflected the elements of her character. Mac only wanted to capture her, holding her to him and away from anything that could possibly hurt her. His appetite seemed to wane after seeing her so shattered. He finished a light dinner and needed to sleep. The last forty-eight hours had been eventful. Tomorrow might bring some clarity to an otherwise murky situation.
Mac planned on talking to Mara when given the opportunity.

~

The sisters went silently back up to their suite. They sat in the welcoming living room made to comfort the soul after a long day at the beach. The French doors opened to a large balcony with a view of the ocean. The dark wood floors gave way to various hues of green, from the couch to the overstuffed chairs, strewed with embroidered pillows with beach scenes. The gentle breeze came off the ocean, making the tissue-thin curtains gently billow and twirl.

If only Mara’s life had some of that gentleness. She sat on the couch and her sisters sank in the big oversized chairs on either side of her. The furniture seemed to hug them in, waiting for the next storm surge to come at them.

Raquelle ordered another bottle of wine as she sensed it might be a long night. She typed out a text one could only imagine going to the ‘the fish’ she caught earlier, canceling his naughty night out with the sex goddess. He would be greatly disappointed he missed out on her. For Raquelle, though, family always came first. One of her beloved sisters was in trouble, needing some serious TLC, and nothing would get in the way.

“So, let’s go back to asshole Brock behind closed doors.” Raquelle wanted to expose all of this. “What do you mean, he barely touched you and only in the dark?”

The tears came right back to the edge of Mara’s eyes as her toes curled over the edge, ready to take the leap. She gathered courage, ready to paint a picture of her decayed intimate life.

“In the beginning of our relationship, sex was quick and only slightly painful. He never kissed me, only a quick peck and then he would close his eyes and proceed. Brock would always turn off the lights, telling me I may have a beautiful face but the other parts of me weren’t so pretty and he didn’t want to look at it.”

She took a moment to gather herself. “Sex is not enjoyable for me. In fact, over the years, it had become quite painful. Brock preferred blowjobs to sex.”

Tears streamed down her face at this point, unable to hold back the deluge. Brock’s comments were so shocking and hurtful that at the time, she wasn’t sure what to do. That’s when the building began. Clean on the outside with its brushed-steel finish, made to appear strong and high-end, but sealed shut with rusty iron rivets, keeping in her darkest secrets. She thought it was unbreakable, no one to witness the darkness and loneliness. Her self-imposed prison separated her from the pain. But things changed since Brock’s death, making her off-balance, wanting to break out. This confession began her transformation, her truth to breaking free.

Leigha and Raquelle stunned by her revelation never would have guessed what was going on behind closed doors. Everything always seemed picture perfect. Their sister had been hurt and they hurt along with her.

Leigha moved to sit next to Mara and held her hand tenderly. “What other parts was he talking about?”

“You know, south of the border. God, this is so embarrassing, but I don’t know who else to talk to about this.” Mara’s eyes pleaded for help from Leigha and Raquelle. Her anguished eyes were too much for her sisters to bear. Leigha had confusion written all over her face. She had seen her sister naked and thought she looked great. Mara’s perception didn’t make sense.

Raquelle stood up from her chair and sat on the other side of Mara. She wanted to verbally blast Brock, but she pulled back knowing her sister needed tenderness. She took Mara’s face in her hands, brushing away her tears very calmly stating, “Since I’m obviously the sexaholic in the family, I’m going to need some details to figure this out. What you’re saying is he didn’t like your womanly parts. Was he a closet gay?”

Mara took a deep breath. “I think we have established he wasn’t gay. Did you ever stop to think I might not be pretty from head to toe? Well, I have. So I did some research online and apparently, some women have painful sex. I accepted it to some degree. I went to the doctor not too long ago, but she said physically there’s nothing wrong with me. What I need to know is how normal was my sex life with Brock?” She saw the doubt and pain in Raquelle’s eyes, but she also knew there would be more questions coming her way.

“Is it possible Brock wasn’t tender and loving in his approach?” Leigha always reached for another explanation to every situation.

“I have no idea. I’ve only been with one other man before Brock. You remember Robert, my freshman year? Well, he was quick and to the point. I think he was embarrassed because I never saw him again. I met Brock soon after and he thought I was a virgin. Sometimes it was better than others, but it has never really been comfortable for me. I always seem to tense up.” Mara’s frustration felt all too familiar on so many levels.

But Raquelle resembled a pitbull—protective, tenacious, and tender all wrapped into one. She blew out a breath. “Let’s start from the beginning. How did sex happen between the two of you?”

Oh, here we go.

She couldn’t tell them everything. Some of the things Brock said to her she couldn’t repeat. She figured he was trying to do some kind of role-playing she wasn’t familiar with, because it came across so cruel.

“We would come home from being out, strip down, get into bed and do it.”

There, that should do it. She would have to be satisfied with her rendition of the events
.

“What did you ‘do,’ exactly? Was there foreplay?” Raquelle determined to make this about Brock and not Mara. She gave her credit, but this was on Mara.

Exasperated, Mara began to reluctantly describe her sex life. “Brock would roll on top of me, pinch my nipple really hard until I cried out and then he would plunge into me. It would hurt so bad it burned, and sometimes I bled. When he would take me from behind, it ended with the same results, and that was with condoms, too. Sometimes, I gave him a blowjob or he forced me to avoid the whole experience. I got good at those to avoid the pain of sex. It got to the point I would fake being asleep when he came home so he wouldn’t even try to have sex with me. But in the last year or so, he didn’t seem interested anymore. Of course, by then, I suspected he was doing it with someone else. So, you see, it wasn’t his fault. It’s the way I’m designed.” She huffed out a breath glad to be done with the recounting of her horrible sex life and she could go back to knowing she would be alone for the rest of her life.

Raquelle stood up abruptly. She couldn’t hold it in anymore and yelled, “Holy. Fucking. Shit! Are you kidding me? Mara, he didn’t do anything to get you ready for him. What a fucking psychopathic pig! And he forced you to give him a blowjob? I would have bitten the damn thing off! I should have killed him while I had the chance. What you experienced with him was not normal. It was abusive and inconceivable, to say the least. What was he thinking? And you’re right, the reason he wasn’t interested anymore was because he fucked around on you.” Mara knew Raquelle had popped a cork when she turned away and started cursing in Italian with hands flailing madly in the air. Their parents had brought them up bilingual, which had its advantages, sometimes.

She blankly stared at Raquelle, as if she had snakes coming from her head.

What the hell is she talking about? Get me ready? He certainly wasn’t going ‘down there.’ He referred to her sex as ugly.

She understood why he cheated; it didn’t take a psychologist to figure it out. Watching Raquelle angrily stomp around had her dumbfounded.

Leigha’s eyes grew wide and horrified. “Okay, first, Raquelle, you need to calm down because this isn’t helping Mara. Two, thank God you used condoms because that man got around. Third...” She hesitated for a moment, as she tried to piece something together. “It sounds like he was punishing you for something. He had to have known he was hurting you. I don’t think he was an inexperienced man when it came to the bedroom.”

Wow! Now, there’s a perspective out of left field.

“Punish? But why would he punish me? I didn’t do anything to him or even embarrass him. In fact, I tried to stay out of his way most of the time. I was always trying to be the good wife.” Mara’s head reeled leaving her perplexed. A piece of yarn from her imagined beautifully knitted marriage had come unraveled until nothing was left but an ugly muddy pile of nothing. She related to the pile of yarn, her life unraveling before her eyes. She tilted again, completely off-balance. Mara had that uneasy felling before and knew it was coming, but this was different, something unexpected, as dizziness took over.