Stranger (15 page)

“Maybe it was the way she was flirting with me.  Or how you hissed at her when she mentioned Santino.”  There, it’s all out, elephant sufficiently addressed, at least this part.

I freeze then slowly turn to Marco trying to control my emotions.  It’s not his fault and I shouldn’t take it out on him so I silently pull in the remains of my anger, first from Adriana then from Mr. Jones.  Marco deserves some kind of an explanation and not a knife throwing crazed female.

“This isn’t the first time she’s flirted with the man I’m with but at least she’s progressed to not doing it behind my back anymore.  And Santino is the past.  She should have left it there.”  I dismiss it.  I can’t tell him about Santino, not yet.  I can sense the walls of the past slowly beginning to close in on me.

Marco comes to me and holds me in an embrace, tenderly kissing me on the top of my head.

“Elizabeth, nothing you could tell me could ever change my opinion of you.  As I’ve said before you are a very private person, even making me keep things about myself from you.  I don’t know what your reasons are but I’m sure to you they’re very good ones.  My hope is that soon you will trust me enough to let down those walls and let me in.  Now, let’s put this behind us and enjoy the rest of our day together.”  Holding me at arm’s length, looking me deep in the eyes, he continues, “Ok, baby?”

I smile at him as relief overtakes my frustration.  “Ok,” the word comes out in an exhale and I put my arms around his waist as the tension I’ve been holding in slips slowly away from me.  He feels it and smiles bringing his lips to mine, kissing them softly, biting them gently, licking and tasting them before sliding his tongue to join with mine.  When his mouth leaves me he rests his forehead against mine with satisfaction showing on his face as well.  I don’t understand why this man has not run away from me yet with the bag full of insinuated secrets I constantly carry around with me.  I am so much more trouble than I’m worth.

“Let’s have some lunch then why don’t we go to the Cape Fear Museum.  Have you ever been?”

“No, I haven’t, that sounds great.  I’ll do the lunch.”

He laughs out loud saying, “That’s ‘cause that’s the easy meal.”

“And I’m not the one with the talents which, may I say, you have many,” and I smile seductively at him.

Marco brings his lips close to mine whispering, “And we’re only just beginning, my love,” taking my lower lip between his teeth.

I moan, my body falling into his warmth.  Thoughts of Adriana and my reality fade to the back of my mind into a distant silent nag as my only focus is this moment forgetting I was in prison and I want nothing more than to be free.

It’s late afternoon before we head to the museum.  The building is a small facility, its design is androgynous, not modern or historical, just a big square brick building.  The displays showcase different aspects of the local past, the area’s link to WWII, a Maritime pavilion, currently something on the progression of communication through history, also giving a different perspective on the originations and growth of the area.  We hold hands, walking the hallways and standing in front of exhibits as we listen to the robotic animations and read the synopses’.  It’s not far from my place but a little too far to walk so, again, he drives the Bond-mobile.  I see some clients from work and we exchange hellos and smiles.  Marco looks to me inquisitively and I smile saying one word in explanation, ‘work’.  I see a look of disappointment pass his face quickly and guilt stabs me again.  It’s not fair to him but I rationalize it by saying to myself, ‘That’s how he started this thing between us, mysterious and non-committed.  No introductions, questions, or expectations’.  But does it really make me feel better?

Back in the car after we leave I get a text from Janie.

What are you doing tonight?

I’m with Marco.

So, you’re doing Marco?

Lol,
(I really laugh out loud).

Marco looks over at me smiling.  “What’s so funny?”

“Janie.”

Parking in front of my apartment, I show him the conversation and he laughs too.

“She sounds great.”  Again, an instant of frustration mars his features accompanied with another stab of guilt in me.  Not wanting to ruin the day I push it aside and come back to the moment. 

“Yeah, she is.  I’m really lucky she calls me a friend.”

“She’s lucky to have you as a friend, Elizabeth.  Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.”  Squeezing my hand, he peers deeply into my eyes.  What does he mean?  What exactly does he want from me?  His innuendos and complete attention have me spinning in confusion.   What are we doing here?  I am as much to blame, knowing full well I can’t offer him anything more but not being able to stay away.   He has breathed life into me and I am addicted to him and I’m afraid I can’t give him up.

Looking away, I smile.  “Thank you.”

“Hey, I guess I’ve got dinner to start.  Common.”

When we go inside he sits me on the counter, pours us each a glass of wine, touches his lips to mine and begins to prepare the chicken.  I watch him quietly admiring him for all that he is.

“You couldn’t have learned to cook like that at your parent’s restaurant.”

He peeks at me sideways with a crooked smile.

“No, I enjoy cooking.  There was a point in my life it helped me to relax.  I cooked a lot and bought cookbooks and experimented with different things.  It was like therapy to me during a stressful time in my life.”

I don’t say anything.  We gaze at each other with understanding and compassion knowing we are both scarred and damaged spirits who have found the other while demanding nothing.  Just accepting what is given and giving fully in return.  But for how long?  It seems like the time is running out on that clock.

Marco’s meal is superb.  He’s done chicken breasts with a cream sauce and rosemary roasted potatoes with endive salad topped with warmed balsamic vinaigrette dressing on the side.  I can’t believe this sophisticated and sexy man can cook like Julia Childs. Thinking of my cooking abilities, or lack of, I don’t know if I’ll ever cook for the man.

After dinner we sit on the couch with a glass of wine and a piano concerto playing in the background just enjoying being together.  This is what normal people do every day, just another part of their everyday life.  They go out, do things together, stay at home and enjoy each other’s company and live.  I should be able to do normal things and live my life and not just exist, hiding in my warm and safe prison that I’ve created, afraid of what’s going to happen if I do.  I’ve lived like that for so long I stopped hearing the calling of my soul begging to be set free.  Marco came along and gave me a glimpse of what being alive feels like again, truly alive, to feel deeply, what it is to feel pleasure without risk of condemnation, but more than anything, to be sincerely appreciated.  I can’t do it anymore; I can’t go back to what I was before. 

“Marco, I have to tell you something.  You have completely amazed me.  I almost have to apologize to you.”  I feel so content here in this moment with him, so grateful for everything he’s done for me that he’s completely unaware of.

Cocking a brow surprised by that he asks, “Why?”

“Well, when I first saw you in the bar with that blonde bimbo falling out of her clothes all over you, I thought you were a pretentious playboy snob.  That is so far from the truth about you.  You are an amazing man.  You’re kind, sincere, and you are the complete opposite of pretentious.  Granted, yes, you are extremely confident and sexy but not in any negative sort of way.  But I did see a hint of that alpha male in you come out at Circa,”

He laughs at that remembering that night.  "What?  He was looking at your tits.  It was better that way than knock him on his ass.”

I laugh almost shocked.  “You wouldn’t have.”

“Yes, I would have.  No one has the right to look at my woman like that.”

The off-handed comment leaves me stunned.  ‘His woman’.  How do I feel about that?  To be honest, I feel like I’ve just won the lottery.  I want to belong to him, to totally and completely be possessed by him.  But I can’t do that, not yet.

He continues, “And let me clarify about that blonde bimbo, she works for an associate of mine and wouldn’t leave me alone and I didn’t want to be rude.  If you noticed, never did I lay a finger on her.  You were the only woman that I saw.”  His look at me is penetrating.

“Then why didn’t you come and talk to me?”

“I never got the opportunity.  The men were hounding you.  Besides, I enjoyed watching how you played with those boys.  It was obvious that none of them were what you needed.  You, love, need a man not a boy.  And I saw that you knew that and humored them at times, throwing them a bone every once in a while by letting one dance with you.”

I sit my wine glass down on the table and begin to slink my way over Marco’s body.  He glints his eyes at me as his mouth turns up in a seductive grin.

“And you, sir, I love that controlling, dominant alpha male in you.  It makes my blood run hot and sucks the air from my body.” 

His eyes glint seductively at me and after a moment he quietly says, “I wonder how much dominance you would actually love, Elizabeth?”

My breath catches and my body heat spikes.  I stretch my body over his, sink my hands into his hair and kiss him as if I were trying to breathe him into me.  When we come up for air we’re panting with our desires newly ignited.

“Come on, baby, I want to take a bath with you.”  He stands pulling me up with him. 

We take turns washing each other in the tub, resting back to front, in a long leisurely soak taking our time exploring our bodies.  Each nook and curve, each crevice and fold, burning the unseen images in our minds through the sight of our hands, lips and tongues.  When the water chills we getting out and dry each other, not able to keep our hands off one another. 

Marco leads me to the bedroom.  While our tongues are making love to each other he pulls down the comforter and guides us onto the bed and covers our naked bodies.  Our limbs are entwined, our bodies not able to get close enough.  The exploration continues, tasting and caressing each other from head to toe.  And when he enters me and rides me through the galaxies I’m soaring and explode with the stars and never want to come down.

Afterwards I lie satisfied in his arms, so content and peaceful. 

He whispers in my ear, “Feel good, baby?”

“Mmmmmmmm.”

“Inside and out?”

“Mmmhmmmmmmm.  You?”

“Yes, I haven’t felt this way in a very long time, Elizabeth.”

“Me too, Marco.”

He turns me to face him in his arms as he covers my face and lips with light kisses.

“Elizabeth, there’s something about you...,” my heart feels like it stops, “just the thought of you arouses me.  I want you but more than just your body.  The hunger is so deep, it’s like I crave you.  I want to fill myself with you, have you running through my veins. I need to have you completely.  Can you give me that, Elizabeth, can you give yourself to me?” 

I know I’m not breathing, time must have stopped right here in this moment.  His hands are holding my face not letting me go, forcing me to remain fixed in this spot as he’s pulling me into him and I want to dive head first surrendering completely to him, body, mind and soul.

“Marco...”  His name is a whisper as it leaves my lips. 

He waits silently giving me time, holding me just like that.

“There is no one else I could ever give myself to...only you.”  The words are true.  I know I have cheated him with my answer, not telling him if I will or won’t, just that I could.  And I see in his eyes that he realizes that I haven’t answered him completely but he takes what I can only give him right at the moment.  It’s only a matter of time now before the past comes back for revenge, it always comes back to haunt you. 

Hesitantly he says, “I have to leave in the morning.  I have a breakfast meeting.  I wish I could change it but we’re on a schedule.”

Disappointment seeps through me as the tender moment passes and the thought of not having him with me when I wake up.

“I’ll miss you but we have lives that don’t stop.  It’s been a fantastic few days.  Thank you.”  He has his arms wrapped around me as I’m stroking his chiseled chest.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Elizabeth.  You will let down your guards and let me in.  Sooner than you think, my love,” he says kissing the tip of my nose.

He doesn’t realize that I’ve already torn them down and thrown out the bricks.  But there’s still a pile of rubble hiding in the background that I’m buried under, my fingers raw from trying to dig myself out.  He’s entered into my very soul, his light brightening the darkness inside of me.  I’m trying to get to him but I can’t.

I turn, snuggling to him, my back into his chest so his heartbeat vibrates against my back, enveloping me in his warmth.  We talk until the early hours of the morning about nothing and everything until our eyes are burning and our mouths are dry.  And the only thing I can think of is the Aerosmith song, Don’t Want to Miss a Thing. 

When I wake up in the morning I’m alone.  I look over at the clock, it says 8:00.  I roll over to his side of the bed and breathe in deeply trying to fill myself with his scent.  I miss him, body, mind and soul.