Disastrous (Disastrous Series) (18 page)

“Yes, I did it for you. I’ve been planning it for three days. I cooked you dinner even made dessert. I didn’t eat…at first I was worried sick, thinking you may have gotten into a car accident or hurt. Then I got a text from you at midnight, four hours after you said you would be here!” Slapping both of my hands against my chest, I slightly lost balance but managed not to fall. “And you walk in here at two in the morning, and what? Am I supposed to welcome you with open arms?
Oh
, Marcus, I missed you; please eat my food and fuck me?” I looked at him through hazy eyes, waiting for him to respond.

He traced the top of his teeth with his tongue, and then his lips curled to the side. His jaw tightened. He was angry now. “Okay, I think you’ve had enough to drink.” With one step he was beside me, reaching for my glass. I yanked it away before he could grab it; some of the red wine spilled on my hand and onto the granite counter top. “See what you did!” he said.

Annoyed by his crap I yelled, “Fuck you, why are you still here?”

His eyes widened. “
Seriously
, Mia? You’re going to talk to me like that? Give me that!” He gripped my hand…we began to wrestle back and forth with the glass. The rest of the wine spilled all over the floor and onto our clothing.

Realizing that I was not giving up, he gave in, letting me have it. Angry with the entire debacle, I slammed the stem on the island causing the glass to shatter. His veins protruded off his forehead. It pissed me off even more that he was angry. He had no right to be angry! I’m the only one that should be mad.

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the
FUCK!
This entire little scene isn’t necessary, Mia. You’re acting like a child!”

Did he just seriously say that? “I’m acting like a child?
I’m
acting like a child!” Stepping back to the table, I turned and grabbed the covered food. Lifting the plates, I slammed them to the floor. All of the food and broken glass splattered across tiles. “Is that fucking childish enough for you. Get
out
!” Breathing heavily, I pointed toward to the door.

Hovering over me, he yelled, “
FINE!
” His face was red with anger. He stormed away, grabbing his keys on the side table by the entrance and then slammed the door behind him. The loud thumping noise brought me back to reality. I slid down the wall, dropping to the ground, sobbing. Throwing my face into my hands, I couldn’t believe what just happened.
What have I done?
I was probably acting childish, and there was no excuse, not even liquor. Somehow the liquor gave me the courage to act stupidly.

Even though I was still furious with him, I had to wonder what was so important that made him six hours late. He was so secretive, and it was getting hard for me to deal with.

I probably sat there for fifteen minutes before I heard the front door slowly open. I didn’t have to get up to see who it was. I just knew it was him. Who else would it be?

“Mia?” His voice pierced through the kitchen, and I lifted my hand, so he could see where I was. He walked around the island and spotted me. His face dropped, and very slowly he inched over to me. The front of his sneakers tapped against my toes, and he bent down to my level. He lowered his head to me. “I’m so sorry ... about everything ... being late. You had every right to be angry.”

I wiped the moisture of the tears off my cheeks and sniffed. “I’m still mad at you.”

Letting out a deep breath, his brows pulled in. “I know … I’m really sorry.”

“Why were you late? Why didn’t you text me right away or call? I was worried sick about you.”

“I was on a job. I couldn’t get out of it. I really tried, baby. I really did. I was stuck and I couldn’t answer you ’cause I was too busy.”

Wiping the snot with the back of my hand, I sniffed again. “What job?” Pressing his lips together, he gave me the look that I’d learned way to soon. He couldn’t tell me. “Oh, that’s right. It’s a
big
secret.” I rolled my eyes and stood. He stood up with me and grabbed my arm to keep me from moving.

“Mia, please, I’m really sorry. I don’t want to go to bed angry … please forgive me. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

I couldn’t believe I was caving in to those eyes. It was more because I was extremely tired and hungry, and the corset was sucking the life out of me. I nodded at him and walked toward the bedroom. He followed.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” he said, shaking his head when he saw the new silk sheets neatly spread over the bed. I didn’t say anything; I was too exhausted. Instead I shifted my body, asking him to unhook the corset. Once it was off, I let out a deep breath; it felt so good to take it off. We crawled into bed, lying on our sides, staring at each other in complete silence.

“Mia?” he whispered.

“Yeah?” I asked as he reached his hand over and gently brushed his fingers against my face. The gesture was so soft and simple, but it felt right. It felt like a relief, and as much as I wanted to still be mad, I didn’t have the strength.

“I’m sorry—”

“Let’s forget about it, okay?” I said, cutting him off. He nodded once in agreement. Bringing his head in, his lips gently kissed mine. It felt different. We usually kissed forcefully, hard, and powerfully. This time he was gentle, stroking his tongue in soft movements and carefully holding my head. His touch always broke me, and I quickly forgot about our fight. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him in closer.

Breaking from the kiss, he took off his clothes, and I yanked my lace panties off. Grabbing my face with his hands, he continued to kiss me indulgently. I spread my legs, and he made his way between them, instantly filling me with his hardness. I gasped. This was the first time we didn’t use protection, and it felt so good when he moved his hips in a slow rhythm that I couldn’t fight him off.

Gripping my hands with his over my head, he continued at the same pace, not missing a beat. We stared at each other as our bodies molded perfectly against one another. Sex with him was usually rough and hard. But this, this was different: we were making love. His eyes searched my face; he seemed lost and afraid. Usually he would flash me a wicked smile or make a naughty comment. It was like we both couldn’t breathe, mesmerized with one another. I moaned when I felt myself building, ready to let go. With him I’m not just me; I’m
his
.

Both our bodies trembled at the somehow new sensation; he leaned down, his lips meeting mine. “
Mia
,” he whispered. He thrust his hips against mine, my insides tightened, and he groaned against my bottom lip as he exploded inside of me. My body instantly reacted to his convulsion, and I whispered his name as my orgasm reached its peak. Still inside of me, his body slammed against mine, and he threw his head into the nape of my neck. “I
love
you.” It was barely a whisper, but I heard it.

I was afraid of those three little words—afraid because I felt the same. It was too soon. We’d just had a huge fight just a few moments before. Wasn’t it a bad sign to be arguing at such an early stage of a relationship? He was saying he loved me. We’ve only known each other for a couple weeks. Was it really love, or was it lust? Pretending not to hear him, I didn’t say anything. We just stayed in that position, listening to sound of our own breathing, until we drifted into a deep sleep.

****

The smell of fresh brewed coffee woke me. The side of the bed Marcus had occupied was now empty. Stretching my arms over my head, I squealed with delight. Glancing at the small alarm clock, I saw that it was seven in the morning. It was Saturday. I’m never up this early on a weekend. My eyes, feeling heavy, began to close again. They re-opened at the sound of a loud thumping noise coming from the kitchen. It sounded like he was cooking. Unwillingly I rolled off
of
the bed. Noticing his t-shirt thrown on the floor, I bent over, grabbed it
,
and tossed it over my head. Dragging my feet to the bathroom, I lifted the toilet lid and slumped on the seat. I could hear a few more thumps in the kitchen.
What
was he doing?

Finishing, I stood and flushed the toilet. Making my way to the sink, I jumped at the sight of myself in the mirror. My overly teased hair was a mess. My smoky eye makeup was all over the place, and the mascara left dry drip marks on cheeks from crying. He’d woken up to
this
! Grabbing a hair tie from the side drawer, I tossed my hair into a high bun, attempting to calm the medusa look.

Turning the facet on, I adjusted the hot and cold until the water turned a satisfying warm temperature. I grabbed the facial cleanser and squeezed the gel onto my hand, rubbing my palms together till it foamed. I scrubbed my face and rinsed, making sure I repeated it two more times till there were no more traces of smeared makeup. After brushing my teeth, I headed for the kitchen.

Marcus’ back was facing me as he hovered near the stove. Looking around, I noticed everything was clean: the shattered glass from last night was no longer on the counter top or the floor, and the rose petals that I placed on the floor were all gone.

The table was still set for two but with new plates. What time did he wake up? We went to sleep a little after three in the morning, and it was only seven. Does he ever sleep? He turned around when he felt my presence and smiled. “Good morning, babe.” Lightly jogging over to me with a spatula in hand, he gave me a quick peck on the lips and led me to sit at the table. “I made breakfast.”

“Thank you.” He opened the microwave and took out a mug. Running back to me, he handed me a cup of coffee, placing sugar, cream, and a spoon in front of me as well. I smiled and began preparing my cup. He kissed my forehead before heading back to the stove. Taking a few sips of coffee, I watched him as he hurried back and forth from the stove to the island, placing the bacon, eggs, and pancakes on separate plates. Walking over, he grabbed both plates from the table and made his way back to the island. He prepared our plates, piling them high.

When he placed the food before me, the smell of bacon made my stomach growl so loudly he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. “Hungry?” he asked, sitting in the chair across from me.

“I didn’t have lunch or dinner yesterday.” I whispered. His face fell with understanding.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Want some orange juice?” I shook my head, digging into my food.

He laughed. “I love that about you. You’re not embarrassed to eat in front of me. Most girls would pick at their food.”

He said the “love” word again. I froze for a second and then continued with my food.

“You’re a loud cook.” I grumbled through a mouth full of pancakes.

“Yeah, I’m always jumping around in the kitchen.”

“This is
so
good.” The satisfaction was so unbearable my eyes watered with delight.

“Whoa, slow down, we have plenty, and your stomach will get upset.” I looked up through my lashes. I didn’t realize I was gulping the food down. Breathing a half smile, I wiped the side of my lips with my hand and continued at a slower pace.

I was completely stuffed and couldn’t move, literally. I watched as he washed the dishes. Once he was finished, he walked over to me. “So what are the plans for today? What do you want to do?” Glancing over at the microwave’s clock, I saw that it was not even eight yet, and now that I was full, I just wanted to crawl back in bed for a long nap.

“Chillax,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“Chillax?” His eyebrows rose. “What does that mean?”

“You know, chill and relax.” He pressed his lips together, forcing down his amusement, but he couldn’t help it.

“Is that a Philly thing?” He laughed.

“No, it’s a
me
thing, I think? Maybe it’s a Philly thing as well. I don’t know. Come on.” I stood up and grabbed his arm, making my way to the bedroom. I threw myself on the bed, and he followed beside me.

“So is this what you want to do all day?” he asked, brushing my hair with his fingers.

“You have a better idea?” I yawned, and he smiled at me.

“Yeah I do, but I can wait until you wake up. Get some sleep. Then you have to pack a bag. We’re going to my place for the rest of the weekend.” I smiled at him. This would be my first time at his place. It was exciting, but I needed my sleep first. Closing my eyes, I drifted into a sleep, beginning my dream of the one and only man I was falling for, and he lay next to me at that very moment.

It was pitch dark, and I couldn’t see where I was going. It was hard to know where I was. I stretched my hands in front me, trying to feel my way around. It was an open space. I kept walking, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. An orange flame caught my attention; it was flickering straight ahead. I followed it, picking up the pace, desperate to walk into the light. The closer I got, the bigger the flame got. I was outside now in front of a huge field. There was an old barn house burning. The flames were huge, covering every inch of the home. I was standing at least a yard away, but I could still feel the heat burning against my face. I began to walk back into the darkness. Maybe was safer in there, but I stopped when I heard a familiar voice yelling my name.

Straining my eyes to get a better glance in the distance, I noticed the person running out of the house covered in black ashes. “Michael!” I screamed. He fell to the ground. Running in his direction, I could feel the strength of the heat from the flames. Forcing myself through the pain, I continued to run until I reached him. My brother was barely recognizable: half his face was burned. Falling to my knees, I pulled him into my arms. Screaming for someone to help, I rocked him as he lay on my lap. “It’s okay, Michael. I’ll get help. Please don’t leave me. Please stay with me.” I sobbed, throwing my head into his chest. I couldn’t feel him breathing. I didn’t want him to leave me again, so my cries turned to screams.

At the sound of a low raspy cough, I sprung my head up. He was alive. He was mumbling something. “What is it, Michael?” I leaned my ear closer to his lips, so I could hear him.

“Promise,” he whispered.

“
Anything
, promise what?” I asked urgently.