My Body-Mine (9 page)

“
Hi Chase,” I said.

“
It’s not a pleasure to meet me?” He chuckled and I couldn’t be sure if he
laughed
at me or respond
ed
in the same way my unruly body had
reacted
to him.

“
That remains to be seen,” I said, trying to suppress my smile.

“
Dinner, shall we?” Andre said, rescuing one of us but I couldn’t be sure whom.

“
Gentlemen’s choice,” I said.

We all removed our shoes and lowered ourselves around a sunken table with cushions to sit upon. After we ordered our food and another round of drinks, the conversation refocused on me.

“
Parker was just telling us that you are trying to get published,” Andre said.

I shot daggers at Parker and said, “Yes, a publisher has my manuscript and I’m waiting to hear back.”

“
I thought you said—” Parker said.

“
I did get an email but I haven’t opened it yet.”

“
What are you waiting for?” Andre asked.

Chase raised his eyebrow and said, “For the right moment, evidently.” I wanted to hug him for understanding until he asked his next question. “What’s it about?”

“
Well, uh, um, I’d rather not talk about it. What about you?” I said, concentrating on my wine glass.

“
I’ve done nothing as exciting as writing a book. That’s quite an accomplishment. I do imagine if it gets published you’ll have to talk about the subject matter? No?” Chase asked.

“
That’s probably true but that’s not the same as talking to my best friend’s boyfriend and friend who seem to know more about me than I’m comfortable
with
. Far more than I know about them.”

“
Knowledge doesn’t always imply judgment,” Chase said, reaching out to touch my arm, then thinking better of it.

“
I guess you don’t know Parker all that well,” I said with a little laugh.

“
Excuse me?” Parker said, pursing her lips. “I just want the best for you. If that’s judgment, then fine.”

Andre reached for her hand and a glance passed between them.

“
Judgment or not, she was smart enough to know that you and I could be friends,” Chase said.

“
I prefer to pick my own friends,” I said, fiddling with the stem of the wine glass.

“
Well then, I hope you pick me,” he said. He smiled warmly, exposing white, even teeth. My eyes settled on the messy curls that touched the edge of his collared shirt, contrasting with Andre’s short, perfectly moussed, spiky hair.

I had a sudden urge to reach out and tug one of Chase’s locks, and the thought injected heat into my veins. Fondling the napkin in my lap, I tried to rationalize away my reaction to him. I had become a whore for overt admiration. Chase merely pressed the buttons that Marcello had already activated by our recent activities.

After the food had been served, Andre stepped in and talked about Parker’s recent promotion at work. His obvious pride in her accomplishments made me happy for Parker. She seemed to have finally found her match in attractiveness, intelligence, and loyalty.

My eyes drifted to the dark hairs on Chase’s forearm. His long fingers left me imagining how it might feel to be caressed by them. Flustered by my own train of thought, I glanced up to see all three of them staring at me. “What?” I said.

“
Chase asked you a question,” Parker said, scrutinizing me.

“
Oh, sorry,” I said, making eye contact with Chase. “I didn’t hear the question.” His expression told me he had an idea where my thoughts had strayed.

“
Working on a scene for your book?” Chase asked, raising his eyebrow
s
.

“
That was the question?” I asked, but glanced over at Parker for confirmation. She shook her head.

“
No, actually I asked if you’d join us next week at Jazzed for Blues Café. It’s not far from here and friends of ours are playing next Saturday night,” Chase said.

My emotions all in a knot, I felt it best to nip his aspirations in the bud. “I’ll have to check with Marcello. I don’t know if he has any plans for us next weekend.”

Deflated but not defeated, Chase said, “Well, I do hope I get to see you again.”

The evening had turned out better than I imagined but it also left me churning over what to do about Chase. Did I want to see him again? Not even an option within my current circumstances, the prospect seemed stupid even to contemplate.

As I drove back to Marcello’s, I anxiously wondered if he’d be home and whether or not we could resolve the issues between us.

I entered the house with some trepidation, wondering if Janice would be there. I hoped it would just be Marcello and me.

“
How was dinner?” he said, sitting in his usual spot on the couch.

Settling in next to him, I said, “Ultimately not as bad as I thought. Rather uncomfortable at first but it got better. Andre seems like the perfect match for Parker and I enjoyed seeing them so happy together.”

“
And the friend he brought?”

“
He seemed somewhat forward but also interesting.” I shrugged my shoulders. “They want me to go out with them next Saturday to hear friends perform at a jazz club.”

“
And what do you want?”

“
I told them you might already have plans for me,” I said.

“
I approve of that response but it doesn’t answer my question.”

“
I feel rather ambivalent.”

“
Hmmm, I think you should go. You need to spend time with friends. Just remember our contract and that you are used to men, not boys.”

“
What’s that supposed to mean?”

“
Jane, don’t play naïve with me. You’re a gorgeous woman. Any man—no, every man—would consider themselves lucky to spend time with you. I doubt, however, that someone your age could handle your needs.”

I blushed, at a loss as to what to say.

“
Did he seem taken with you?” Marcello sipped his scotch as if not at all invested in my answer.

“
Taken? I’m not sure I’d use that word but he did flirt with me. He seemed like the naturally flirtatious type.”

“
Did he flirt with the waitress?”

“
No, but—” I said, shaking my head.

“
Or Parker?”

“
Well, no … What does it matter, anyway?” I leaned toward him. “I’m not interested,” I said.

“
Are you sure about that?” He inclined his head, his eyes boring in like an X-ray into my heart.

“
I thought things were progressing well for us,” I said. “That is, until today, where I’m left with a lot of questions.”

“
About what’s going on with me and Janice?” Marcello asked.

“
That and the house.”

Marcello’s head snapped in my direction. “What house? This house?”

“
The beach house. I went by there today.”

“
For what purpose?” I should have known that the news wouldn’t be welcome, but Marcello’s raised volume startled me.

“
We can explore my motives another time, Marcello. I’d like to know what the heck is going on. Why did you tell me Luke put the house on the market? All of our stuff is still there, minus the few boxes you and Janice brought here for me.”

“
He asked me to extract your personal belongings so I did.”

“
That doesn’t explain what you told me when you visited me in the stress unit. I found no ‘For Sale’ sign.”

“
I thought it would be easier for you to move on if that were the case, and he was definitely considering it. He mentioned possibly selling the house the last time I went by there.”

“
You are challenging my trust in you. How do I know what’s true anymore?”

“
Always know that my actions are motivated by your best interests.”

“
You don’t get to decide that, Lu—I mean Marcello. Fuck!”

“
Jaaaane
,” he said, stretching my name out in frustration, like a kettle about to whistle and steam. Inhaling deeply, he struggled to maintain control.

He hated other people cursing, although he wasn’t above it himself. He and my mother had that in common. Sometimes the words just shot out of me without warning. Almost saying Luke’s name hadn’t helped matters.

Watching him take another swallow of Scotch, I decided it might help me as well. Taking the half-filled glass from his hand, I downed the remainder. It scorched my throat and warmed me. My legs felt weak.

He took the empty glass from my hand and placed it on the table. “I promise that from this moment on, I will be completely honest with you.” He gave each word equal weight. Then he rose and stepped over to the hutch, refilling his tumbler. Shifting to face me, he continued, “I stand firm that your unwillingness to break ties with Luke is keeping you from truly moving forward. From truly healing.”

“
Wait—” I said.

A thrust of his palm cut me off. “However, I have to assume from your behavior that it’s not done. That leaves me far more concerned than the possibility of what any mere
boy
might bring to the table.” Keeping an arm’s length distance between us
, he sat
on the couch
and
took another pull of the liquor.

“
You don’t get it,” I said. “I don’t have any desire to see Luke again. I just wanted to see the house. I expected it to be occupied by different people, not by all our furniture and belongings.” I really wanted the conversation to be over, but I still had questions. “And Janice? Did you talk to her? Resolve anything? Do you know what she thinks about you and us?”

“
No, and yes.”

“
You can’t keep shutting me out. I did what you recommended and talked with her. What’s going on with you is affecting my relationship with her and the comfort level in this house.”

“
I realize that, but the situation isn’t easily remedied.”

“
Well, it might help if I understood the situation. What
is
going on? Is she right about your feelings for me?”

Staring into his glass, he said, “It’s not uncommon when a Dom brings a new sub into the house that she tends to get more attention for a while.”

“
You’re going to speak to me in generalities?”

“
What is it you want to hear?” He kept his eyes on the bottom of the glass.

“
The truth would be good.” But as the words came out I wished I could take them back.

“
I’m in love with you.” He sighed and sank back against the couch.

His answer, although not unexpected, knocked the wind out of me. “And obsessed?” I heard myself say, my voice nearly inaudible.

“
A bit.”

“
And Janice?”

“
I love her but it’s different. And right now—”

“
So she was right then.”

“
Yes.”

“
What do you plan to do?” I felt anger and confusion in equal measure.

Marcello placed his glass on the end table next to him and said, “This is one of those situations that just takes time.”

“
Janice didn’t sound particularly patient,” I said.

“
She’ll be visiting one of my good friends next weekend.”

“
That’s the solution?”

“
The immediate one, yes.”

The silence stretched between us. I felt pain in my heart. I knew very well how it felt to love someone more than they loved you. I had loved Luke more than he loved me, more than I even loved myself, and it had cost us both way too much. And now somehow I’d become the withholder, sandwiched between Janice and Marcello’s relationship.

Marcello loved me? I still couldn’t wrap my mind around that. It left me to wonder if his love stemmed from my refusal—or my inability—to surrender. A man like Marcello wasn’t used to being denied. I knew I could never love another person as much I had loved Luke or that I even sought to.

Keeping the thoughts to myself, I said, “I honestly don’t see how sending her away will help but I’m not Janice.” Sliding over to the corner of the couch so I sat close enough to touch Marcello’s arm I said, “What is it you want from me, Marcello? And please don’t say ‘everything.’ ”

He chuckled but the light didn’t reach his eyes. “
Di dare amore una possibilità
.”

“
Which means?”

“
To give love a chance.”

“
That takes time,” I said.

“
Yes, and that we have. Come sleep with me tonight.”

“
Wouldn’t it be better if you came to my—”

“
Get ready for bed and come to me.” He lifted the tumbler of scotch and drained the contents. As he glowered over me, I felt his palpable sadness.

“
Okay,” I said and rose up to kiss his full lips.

Heading to my room I wondered why he seemed so sad.

* * * *

Later, dressed in my short, pink robe, I knocked on the door of Marcello’s bedroom. I found him sitting naked on an easy chair in the corner, his eyes closed.

“
Were you waiting for me?” I pulled off my robe and settled onto his lap, my head against his broad chest.