Riveted (Art of Eros #1) (7 page)

Raquelle had come back to the conversation and stared at Leigha as if she held all the answers to this mystery.

Leigha went on to explain her theory. “He was doing something right with someone, because the woman we saw him with was definitely experienced. There’s no way a woman like that was going to put up with abuse in the bedroom.”

“You know, you’re right. I didn’t think of that. So, why was he so cruel and abusive to you, Mar? God knows he married you for the trust fund money.” Their father had set all three of them up with a trust fund to make sure they were well taken care of, but with the understanding they would also stand on their own someday. Each of them learned quickly how to manage money and the trust funds still did quite well.

Mara turned to Raquelle, noticing the grief in her eyes she hadn’t seen before, and she started to cry. Her head hung in her hands and she sobbed, taking in huge gulps of air. Her mind and emotions were on overload, her head spinning at this newfound information.

She mumbled, “How could I have been so stupid and naive?” Her sisters held her and tried to reassure her it was Brock who was the problem.

“We all experience sex differently. Mama never sat us down to talk us through it, either, so how were you supposed to know what was normal or abnormal?” Leigha spoke as if she were talking to herself.

Somewhere in the back of Mara’s mind, she sensed something was off about her relationship with Brock. Her experience with men was almost non-existent before him; she repressed it, not wanting to bring it out into the light and face it. They didn’t know the things he said to her during sex behind closed doors. At that point, she wasn’t about to add to the disgraced picture. They hung on to her for dear life, creating a circle around her in a veil of protection. Leigha rubbed Mara’s back, telling her over and over again it would be all right and she could get therapy back home. There was nothing left in her tank. She was drained and exhaustion set in quickly.

“I think I want to go to bed right now. We can talk more tomorrow. I’m overwhelmed with all of this and need to process it. If I thought I was broken before, I’m really broken now.” She clung to her life rafts and couldn’t imagine her life without them, two of the strongest, most intelligent and caring women she had ever known. She hoped some of their strength would rub off on her.

Her emotions were raw and burned, as if exposed to the sun for too long. Abuse? Punishment? Was that what her marriage to Brock had been? He was never particularly affectionate, more cold and distant. But why? Did he ever love her? She’d thought so in the beginning. Did he just want the money? He did spend a good amount of it, until he started making a lot of his own with the investment firm. Looking back on it, that was when he began to distance himself from Mara.

Opening this Pandora’s Box gave way to more questions than answers. She was exasperated knowing she would never get answers. However, the light at the end of this tunnel suggested that Brock might be the problem instead of her. She knew for sure she’d never had the connection to Brock that she already had to Mac. Her feelings for her husband lacked those fluttering wings of excitement in her chest and the sensuality that coursed through her body at the sight of Mac.

“You better get some sleep, because you have a hot date with a hot guy. I think it’s the perfect distraction for you, Mar.” Raquelle lived for the next conquest. The time had come for Mara to take her sister’s cue and live a little. She was curious to find out about Mac and where he would lead her. She needed a reprieve from her new reality check that made her feel unsteady.

Chapter 6

Mara woke up the next morning with a massive hangover. She didn’t have much to drink, but the emotional semi that had run her over had left its mark.

Oh, that’s right, ...my late husband.

Even dead, he managed to reach out and beat her down emotionally. But she was alive, trying to fight the ghost of him. The weight lifted off her shoulders as she finally shared her ‘behind closed doors’ story with her sisters. They gave her love, support and non-judgment. The relief in telling her story helped to lift a heavy blanket of shame. Breaking down her confines and building herself back up again to prove she was stronger than he gave her credit for. Being six feet under he could do a lot less damage. He deserved his new bed.

God, how can I be thinking like this? Have I snapped, or is this what it feels like when you’ve just had enough?

She sat on the edge of the bed and heard her sisters’ muffled voices behind the closed bedroom door. Her core was an empty vessel, floating on the rough sea of life. She craved peace, quiet and a hot shower.

Her body moved as if walking underwater toward the luxury bathroom. Tastefully done in white marble with salmon-colored lines running through it, the clear, shell-shaped washbasins perched atop of a white wood cabinet under brushed nickel faucets. The middle of the floor showed a basket-weave pattern of white marble with pink marble inlays, all very high-end. Her artist eye took in all the details. She should have been impressed, but she wasn’t processing anything about her surroundings.

Her internal focus consumed her. She turned on the rain shower, pulling the hem of her nightshirt over her head before she pulled her panties down her legs. Her nakedness was suddenly new to her, like she was seeing herself for the first time. Leigha’s comment came back to her; maybe she
did
look like everyone else. She flirted with the idea that maybe the unfulfilled sex wasn’t all her fault. She might actually be able to have sex without excruciating pain.

Wanting to get in touch with her body, she closed her eyes, aware of the fullness of her breasts under her hands as they traveled down to the ‘unwanted area.’ Self-satisfaction was never one of her favorite activities. Anything sexual reminded her of Brock’s scalding words, making her embarrassed and ashamed. She tried to avoid touching herself as much as possible, almost never examining her naked body in the mirror. Why look at something that caused so much pain? Her face was her focus, crafting a mask to hide behind. She stared at her face in the mirror, only to see pink swollen eyes and sunken cheeks. An indication she needed to start eating more.

As she stepped away from the mirror, her body came into view along with a new sense of awareness. She wanted to see and sense her body, rediscovering herself to find out what she missed. There might be a chance she was normal. She needed to hold on to that thought. If she dared to be brave enough, she could break those barriers that held her captive for so long. Raquelle might be able to help her in that department. The idea of a spa day entered her mind, then shopping. She wanted the works—massage, facial, and yes, waxing. Raquelle always talked about a Brazilian wax. Needless to say, she didn’t even know what the hell it was. As painful as it sounded, Mara wanted the full treatment. She felt empowered, as if a new chapter in her life had been written and opened her up to other possibilities.

She entered the shower, trying to wash away her past, her hands running over her body as the steam from the shower enveloped and warmed her skin. As she took the fresh-scented shower gel in her hands, she couldn’t help but think of Mac. Had she misjudged him? He embedded himself in her head and heart. Those eyes of his spoke volumes as they searched her soul. She imagined where he would put his hands on her. Would he think she was so naïve and inexperienced that he would be turned-off? The thought gave her a pang in her chest.

She didn’t know the answers to the questions that floated in her head but she needed to start with her. With a new resolve, she wanted to discover what her body liked because she’d already been introduced to what it didn’t like. She wouldn’t let Brock, the asshole, leave her broken. In Raquelle’s words, “Oh, hell-to-the-no.” She would rise out of the ashes of her fake marriage built on lies and deception. Mara smiled at the thought of Raquelle’s take-no-prisoners attitude and wanted to infuse some of it into herself. Raquelle likely possessed an intimate map of her own body inside and out. Mara had an irrepressible need to find out what she had missed out on.

She started with her fingers on her nipples, carefully playing with them ever so gently, a stark contrast to the brutality of Brock’s touch. Her touch was kind and gentle. A ribbon of warmth started to make its way all over her body. Mac. She couldn’t get him out of her head, and wanted his hands on her body, remembering the heat of his body near hers. She imagined how his hands would skim down over her stomach, finding the place between her legs that had been a source of anxiety up until then. Determination made her want to bust out of the place keeping her from happiness, pleasure, and intimacy.

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply in through her nose and out of her mouth to gain some calm. Her mind drifted back to Mac, making him her safe anchor. He would know what to do and how to do it. Would he want hair or no hair ‘there’? She decided to go with no hair, mostly because she wanted to be able to react to and see everything. She wanted to strip herself of everything that came before Mac. Her fantasy continued with him sliding his finger between her legs, playing there for a while, sliding up and down. Her touch amazed her. Her other hand lightly stroked the inside of her thigh and over her lower abdomen. Her heart sped up and her skin started to flush.

Her breath caught as her finger slid over her clit, reacting with sensitivity and electricity, waiting for her to rediscover it. She circled around several times just to make sure this was real, unable to remember the last time she intimately touched herself. She paid attention to all the sensations traveling through her, a tingle spread through her body, humming with satisfaction. She wanted to continue, unsure where to go without a road map, but something kept calling to her. Her other hand traveled back up to her breast. She played, squeezed and softly pinching the nipple, lathering it up with shower gel. Wanting the next move to be sliding her fingers inside herself, she got scared and stopped cold. She was afraid of the pain, so she continued to swirl around her clit as pressure started to build.

Her body wanted and craved this attention, like a gentle wave rolling over her, not the storm of destruction Brock left behind after tortuous sex. Mac would know what her body needed, seeming more protective and playful than cold and hurtful. Just the thought of Mac fed the fire beginning to build. Mara’s orgasm hit her like a tsunami rolling over her body. She thought she heard herself moan. Her eyes popped open in surprise, but the release felt so good and her body continued to respond to her hands.

Breathing heavily, she braced herself on the wall of the shower. The rain shower caressed warm water down her body, taking some of the fear and shame with it. The ghost of Brock started to shred. A victorious smile came over her face. She felt more alive in that moment than she ever did in her five-year marriage. Things were changing for her. She just completed the first step of many.

She got herself ready for the day in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, two things she rarely wore, but she wanted to be comfortable. As she stepped into the living room, her sisters looked up with guarded expressions on their faces.

Leigha spoke first. “How are you this morning?” Mara could’ve sworn they were holding their breath.

“I’m fine. I’m a fighter. I’m not going to let Brock rule my life from the grave. I don’t know what will happen with Mac, but I’m willing to keep an open mind.” Mara said with conviction, sitting down with a huge smile as if she held some sort of secret.

Leigha and Raquelle gave each other a sideways glance of bewilderment. Their sister always seemed so fragile and timid, especially around Brock. They had almost forgotten how much stronger she used to be before she met him. It became clear how much he had broken her down.

Raquelle grabbed Mara’s hand. “I’m certainly glad you’re not going to let that bastard keep you down. I always knew you were strong. You can’t keep a good Italian woman down for long.” The epiphany made them laugh until tears were running down their faces. She wondered if she would be strong enough for Mac. Surely, he wouldn’t want someone as broken as she was on the inside. She teetered between her resolve to stay strong and self-doubt.

Chapter 7

Mac came to Mara’s suite to pick her up for their morning date. Her hands were clasped in front of her, but there was also a soft glow in her cheeks. He saw through her attempt to put up a good front, trying not to show her nerves about the day. Once again he was thrown off, not sure how to read her. Little did he know that she had just taken a shower with him and he had made it a breathtaking experience.

The current shifted between them after spending time together the day before. Even though she suspected he lied, he still held a natural sense of comfort and security for her. Her body relaxed with him near, wanting to explore this new side of herself and throw a bit of caution to the wind.

Mac greeted her sisters then did something unexpected, yet comforting to Mara.

“Let’s all exchange cell phone numbers so we can be in touch if need be.” Mac covered all his bases, wanting Mara to feel safe with him. After seeing her so vulnerable after her recent loss, he wanted them to know he could be trusted with her.

They exchanged numbers and confirmed the events of the day, then he and Mara made their way down to the pool. Mac held Mara’s hand in the elevator, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. He was unaware of the sparks he created in Mara. His touch sent her body into overdrive. It took all her will power not to grab him and kiss those lips. She stared at his profile for a while until he captured her with his eyes and smiled.

“What’s going through that beautiful head of yours? Hmm?” Mac gave her a look that let her know he would be getting to the bottom of what happened the previous night.

“You have a handsome profile. I think I want to do a bust of it someday.” Caught off guard, it occurred to her where she’d seen him before. The bust she had been working on at home resembled Mac. Her hands shaped the clay of their own volition. A shiver went through her as she wondered what it all meant. Did she have a premonition about Mac before she met him?

Mac glanced over at Mara’s perfectly made-up face, which he assumed to be waterproof makeup. He questioned why she felt the need to hide behind her mask.

The previous day’s conversation led him to believe there was nothing fake about her, nothing for her to hide. She wasn’t just a pretty face.

Watching her had wild thoughts running through his head. Visions of Mara’s naked body, and what his body pulsed for, kept him tossing and turning all night long. He wanted her, all of her, just the way she was. He had a lot of experience with lust; this was something more. He couldn’t explain it, but he recognized her. He wanted—no, needed her to want him just as much. He never cared enough to get this serious about getting to know a woman before. His encounters started with some initial spark, then, without formalities, the sex party began. But he wanted to take his time with Mara. They’d connected on a different level, making her a game-changer. He wanted to delve into the depths of her and really understand someone for once. For some unknown reason, his protective side came out around her. This connection differed from any he had made with any other woman. He meant to keep her, but he didn’t know for how long. He didn’t want short-term, but wasn’t sure how it would all work out. She flipped his switch, more or less, from solitary bachelor to very possessive male, and she wasn’t even aware of what she did to him. He never imagined there was anyone out there who could make him respond in this way.

Even lost in their own thoughts, the silence was comfortable between them. They grabbed their gear and went to the pool, as Mac helped Mara with hers. The tension stayed with Mara and seemed to be getting more intense.

“Mara, are you okay? You seem tense. Is it about last night?” Mac wanted to resolve this before they started their training. He needed her to have a clear head.

She avoided his question. “I’m a little nervous. I’ve never done this before, and I know it can be dangerous.” She swept her fingers through her hair, standing with a rigid posture.

Mac took both her hands in his and lowered himself even with her eyes. “Mara, you are safe with me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ve done a lot of diving. I have experience, and I know all the dangers. I’ll check your equipment and mine before we go out this afternoon. I promise.” He didn’t want to speak to her like a child, but he needed her to understand how important it was to trust him completely. They would be working on the buddy system, and trust was key.

Mara breathed out, not realizing she was holding it in. She hesitated, “I’m going to try to trust you, Mac.” He understood her trepidation, but this was a start, never thinking the word ‘trust’ could mean so much with a woman. He gave her one of his megawatt smiles and kissed her on the cheek, wondering what was behind her total lack of trust.

She brushed her lips across his with a soft “Thank you.” She examined him through eyes that exposed her fear of the feelings between them more than what was about to happen in the water. Her gaze traveled down his firm chest and cut abs. She didn’t think she would ever get enough of looking at him from head to toe. For the first time, she examined what seemed like a healed bullet hole under his ribcage with a six-inch scar under the wound. She braved running her fingers over the scars, peering up at him with concerned eyes. He flinched at her touch filled with so much worry for him.

He moved his hand over hers, “Hazards of the job. It’s nothing.” He brushed off his wounds. If he thought about the dangers of his job, he never would have survived his assignments. He moved her fingers over the scar that looked like a bullet hole.

“But this one has my sister’s name written all over it.” A curious frown crossed her face.

“When my sister Kendall was little, we had some pigmy goats. We were in the barn when one of the younger, aggressive males decided to charge her from behind. She abruptly turned around in his path. I lunged in front of him and grabbed his horns. He twisted and gouged me under the rib. It took everything I had not to break his neck. That’s how angry I was that anything would hurt her, but Kendall would have been beside herself. She loved all animals, including insects. Needless to say, the goat lived to see another day. In the end, something hurt Kendall that even I couldn’t protect her from.” Mac turned away as feelings of anger and despair came with thoughts of his sister. Mara understood and decided the conversation could wait until later.

Until recently, he never spent so much time thinking about Kendall. He would have to deal with all the feelings that came with the memories. Mara felt safe to him, like she wouldn’t judge him for the cold and lonely place he created after losing someone so close to him. He looked down at the hand that covered her fingers, lingering on his scars. Caught between needing her tender, healing touch and wanting to bury himself inside her to make it all go away, like he had done with so many women in the past. He couldn’t lose what he wasn’t invested in, but he was invested in her. She gave him a knowing smile that said ‘sometimes the scars on the inside hurt more than the scars on the outside.’ In that moment, they forged another bond between them, a rope of warmth coming from her heart through her hand. He was falling into deeper water with this sensual woman.

He shook his head to help him snap out of his emotions. “Now, let’s get you geared up and hope I don’t have a scar with your name on it after this dive.” He winked at Mara as she laughed, touched by his story of how protective he could be of the ones he loved but wondered about the dangers of his job.

He helped her with her tanks, regulator, and mask. They followed directions from the instructor and swam around the pool. All this being second nature for Mac as he gave her some helpful hints. Fascinated by her, he never stopped touching her, making her aware he was always right there. He put his hands on her shoulders, her legs, and held her hand. He needed to tread carefully so he didn’t get aroused which was becoming increasingly difficult around her. They even practiced ‘buddy breathing’ should they ever need to share air under water.

~

Mara’s body wrapped in warmth with every touch as she tried to stay focused on the instructions. Her body responded to him in a positive way. She cherished his touch, growing more and more comfortable with herself and Mac, making her body pulse, wanting more. The need becoming stronger as if it had been in a long winter’s slumber, finally waking up to warm spring sunshine. He gave her some peace of mind that she had been missing for a very long time. The thoughts of being normal floated around in her head again.

After a couple of hours of instruction and practice, they emerged from the water rather hungry. Mara giddy with excitement, knowing she tried and conquered something new. She also realized she trusted Mac more and more with every encounter. Her life had been in such flux with the discovery of Brock’s indiscretions that trusting a stranger didn’t seem like a wise decision. Oddly, he never came across like a stranger. Time spent with him seemed so natural and comfortable. She hoped she gave him the same piece of mind.

They sat down under a linen-colored umbrella, tucked away in a corner surrounded by colorful tropical shrubbery. Her appetite returned as she nibbled on bruschetta accompanying a wedge salad with chicken. Mac devoured a hamburger and fries, noticing Mara’s appetite, a far cry from the night before when she pushed her food around her plate. As they continued to share stories, it emphasized the differences in their backgrounds but didn’t seem to hinder their connection. Mac sat back knowing the time was right to tell Mara about Kendall.

“I want to tell you about my sister, Kendall. She was very special to me. Unfortunately, I know all too well what it’s like to lose someone close to you.”

Mara gave Mac her undivided attention. She hoped he would tell her about his sister on his own.

“She was diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer in her early twenties. Being diagnosed at a young age is never a good sign, as I found out later. I came home right away and was with her through her treatments. Her illness was the most brutal thing I’ve ever seen anyone go through. I stayed with her until she died, and I felt like a piece of me died that day as well. I’ve tried to shut it away. But I don’t think you ever shut something like that away. Because of our experience with my sister, my brothers and I do charity events to raise money for ovarian cancer survivors.” He stopped himself as it all bubbled to the surface too quickly.

His hand reached for his chest as it tightened reciting the events to her.

He appeared vacant and lost when he spoke of Kendall. She wished she could take that all away from him, but she questioned if it was a way to loop her in. No. His grief was genuine. No one could lie about losing a sister—well, except for Brock. He could probably lie about anything. Mac hid away his hurt. Sympathy wasn’t his trump card to convince her to sleep with him. He showed her his fractured parts and the man behind the protective barrier.

“I’m sorry you went through that. No one should have to watch their loved one die. I can’t imagine what life would be like without one of my sisters.” She covered his hand with hers without breaking eye contact, a silent understanding of his need for restraint. She decided to change the course of their conversation.

“What was it like growing up with brothers?” She was inquisitive, not able to imagine living with boys in the house.

Mac’s shoulders relaxed when she changed the subject. His body started to sag under the weight of his emotions and needed a reprieve from the topic of Kendall. “It had its ups and downs. Declan is the oldest, and Campbell is next in line. They’re both in the military but in totally different fields.” He watched her closely as he gave his next bit of information, gauging her reaction. “Declan works for British Intelligence and Campbell works as a cryptanalyst.”

“That sounds secretive and dangerous.” Mara’s eyes grew wide with wonder. She sensed being watched again. Goose bumps rose on her arms and she put them under the table to hide them from Mac. Once again, she casually surveyed the area around her to see if she recognized anyone, but all she saw were stranger’s faces. He sat across the pool, hidden in the shadows.

Yes, I’m still here, watching and waiting. But I can’t wait much longer, princess.

Mac continued to talk, unaware of Mara’s discomfort. “We’re very close now, mostly because we went through so much with Kendall’s treatments and death. I guess losing a loved one can go one way or the other, bringing you closer or tearing you apart. Lucky for us, we became closer. We fought when we were younger, like boys do, but once the fight was over; it was done. Women tend to hold a grudge a little longer.” He didn’t want the conversation to become too heavy, so he smiled at her like he owned women’s numbers in the fight-and-hold-a-grudge department.

Thankful for the shift in the conversation, Mara quipped, “Oh, really? Well, I’m glad you’re so versed in the ways of women. I’m amazed you’re not married by now, Prince Charming.” She gave him a sly smile. She loved to banter with him, pushing his buttons a little, something she could never do with Brock. His comments always bit at her and dripped with sarcasm to keep her at a distance.

Mac looked her straight in the eye. “You might say I’ve been waiting for the right woman to come along. When I was younger, I was in a relationship but was always traveling. My job’s very demanding that way. As hard as I tried, the relationship eventually fell apart. I thought it wouldn’t be fair to jump into another one with someone when I was away so much. Things have changed lately, though, and I want different things than I did before.”