Riveted (Art of Eros #1) (10 page)

Chapter 9

As she rushed to catch the elevator, her mind was spinning as she became furious with herself. Distracted by thoughts of ‘Mac the player’; she almost missed a tall man walking quickly to catch the elevator. His hair hung out from under his dirty baseball cap, the bill of the cap tilted down to cover his face. For some inexplicable reason, her skin prickled at the sight of him. Her breath caught in her throat, rendering her suddenly immobile, letting the doors closed right before he reached them. She could have sworn she heard him banging on them.

She needed to regroup, blaming her frayed nerves and went back to her current dilemma, Mac. She had been so stupid. She imagined him having a good laugh at the pool with the Bimbos, making plans with them for later. He played his game at her expense. She couldn’t imagine an end like this after all they shared, allowing herself to feel safe with him. Mara actually trusted him. Lesson learned! Thank God she backed off from going further physically, preventing her from being more of a fool. Playtime ended; she needed to set her sights on a real man or commit to a life of being alone. She attracted yet another player. They seemed to have a direct GPS linked to her.

Her polished steel defense went right back up again, completely intact. Not a crack to be found, not even for a wisp of light. At least she was used to the dark and lonely place, keeping her safe from the pain and offered a lot less heartbreak. She was broken enough. Tired of the confines of her shield, she was overwhelmed and needed to talk it over with her sisters. Carrying a heavy rivet gun was a hell of a lot of work. She stalked back into her suite and, of course, the minute they saw her face, they accosted her.

“Oh, my God, Mara, what happened?” Leigha went to touch the swollen red welt streaked across her cheek.

She stepped back, surprised, having forgotten about the injury to her flawless mask.

“Shark attack. Mac saved me. Too bad he ended up being an asshole player.” Her shortened response indicated her weariness of the afternoon. She lifted an ice pack and held it to her swollen face.

“Thank God Mac was there to save you, Mar. Wait. Did you say ‘asshole player’?” Raquelle was surprised by Mara’s choice of words. She led Mara to the couch to sit down, applying some aloe to the welt.

Leigha joined them and chimed in, “Well, don’t stop there. Tell us what happened and why you think he’s a player. Start from the beginning.” Lately, Leigha seemed more curious than usual about navigation of relationships.

“Well, we had a little romp in the water before the shark attack. He made me...um...very happy.” Mara was unsure whether she wanted to share everything with her sisters. She steeled herself for her next confession. “I was ready to take the next steps and I really wanted to be with him. As patient as he was with me and didn’t push me, my body resisted him. I stopped before he could go any further.”

“He sounds like an incredible man, Mara. I hope you can see this through. Live in the moment with him and enjoy it all.” Leigha looked like she longed for what Mara might have with Mac. But Mara couldn’t imagine where that came from. Leigha appeared to be in a satisfying relationship that seemed to make her happy. As Mara learned, though, things may not always be what they seem.

“It’s freeing to just let go. I trusted him with my body, which is a totally foreign concept for me. He read me so well. I can feel him studying me, but in a good way. He said he wants to know everything about me. I don’t know if he’s willing to accept me the way I am. My trust in him deepened after he rescued me from drowning during the shark attack.” Mara hung her head down and started lacing and unlacing her fingers.

“Mara, what’s wrong? You should be having the time of your life with a wonderful man. We want you to let loose and free yourself from all the Brock garbage.” Leigha hit the nail on the head. She felt free yet secure with Mac until his two hoochie mamas showed up.

“We were walking back to the pool area when two bimbos showed up and commented on what a great time they had with Mac the other night. So, in other words, they all had one big orgy.” Mara puffed out an exasperated breath.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just because they said they had a good time doesn’t mean there was a wild sex party. Did you let him explain himself?” Raquelle wore the rational hat for a change.

“No,” Mara muttered. A part of her wanted to believe Mac was a player so she wouldn’t have to unpack any of her baggage. She would never have to tell him her secrets, even though he already suspected something wasn’t right about her. She wrestled so much with the riveted constraint, banging up against the walls at regular intervals, torn between its security and wanting it gone for good.

“Mara, you need to live in the moment right now and enjoy every minute. You never know when life will all come to a crashing halt.” She examined Leigha through inquisitive eyes. Mara couldn’t help but wonder what secrets Leigha held that would make her say such things.

“Leigha is right, you know. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Do what feels good now. You don’t owe anyone anything, but give him the benefit of the doubt. Hear him out. Look how much he watches out for you. That means a lot. Players don’t try that hard to pretend to care about someone who may or may not be a quick lay. You need to let yourself go and explore that man from head to toe. That’s exactly what the doctor prescribes.” Raquelle seemed to be the expert in the ‘live freely’ philosophy.

“You better rest up because tomorrow, we’re going on a shopping spree. You are getting an outrageously gorgeous dress and then we’re going dancing. We haven’t done that in forever.” Raquelle’s remedy to any shitty situation: shopping for something expensive, splendid, and attention getting and show it off.

Tomorrow’s a new day but right now, I want sleep to help me escape.

“Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you. Who knew this would be such an insightful vacation and I would need a protector, of all things.” She hesitated as if contemplating her next move. “You know, you’re right. I can’t think about what might or might not have happened with those women. But I sure can make him sweat a little.” Mara finally felt a little more triumphant as she stood and made her way to the bedroom for a nap before dinner.

She was still tired from the day’s events. The fact she hadn’t heard from Mac didn’t surprise her. He must have figured out that she saw right through his game.

Mara says, “Fuck off, Mac.”

She made her way to the living room, touching the side of her face she noticed the swelling had gone down significantly. The redness could always be covered with makeup. Given the excitement of the day, they decided to order in and have an early night. Tomorrow would bring some much needed bonding time between them with full relaxation. She wanted Mac out of her system and looked forward to the distraction.

Chapter 10

Mara woke up refreshed but still carried the anger of the ‘bimbo encounter’ in her chest. She was caught between wanting to be right about Mac and wanting to be wrong. She couldn’t escape how he made her want him with every gentle touch and kind word.

Is he that way with all his women? Is that why they came back for more?

The turmoil gnawed at her but she wanted to shut the door and not think about him anymore. She needed to keep pushing forward and make changes. The sensation was like having an out-of-body experience. She hardly recognized this strength, but she embraced it. When life gave you lemons, you made lemonade and when a player crossed your path, you needed to play him. She made her way to the living room. The light conversation between her sisters was a welcome relief from the heavy topics they recently talked about.

“By the way, I’d like us to do a spa day with the works, including that Brazilian wax thing, whatever that is. I refuse to let Brock’s abuse keep me down. I’m alive and he isn’t. I need things to change, and I’m the only one who can make those changes.” Sitting down at the table with them, she wasn’t as confident as she sounded. Leigha and Raquelle glanced at each other and then at her, awestruck.

“Well, halle-fucking-lujah. I had no idea what condition you would be in today, but I’m glad you’ve decided to fight. About the Brazilian wax thing... It hurts.” Raquelle beamed with excitement that her big sister found some balls, so to speak.

“I want all the hair gone. I want to get in touch with myself again. I need to see and feel everything from now on. If I ever decide to have sex again, I don’t want to hide.” She stared down at the table by that point, wondering where that all came from because she was skittish about what she was doing. If she didn’t want to hide, she should rid herself of the make-up. God that seemed drastic. She needed to take one step at a time, still needing her mask, protecting the image she always put forth.

Thank God Leigha chimed in, “Hey, first of all, you need to slow down. You went from zero to Raquelle inside of twenty-four hours. You need to stop and evaluate what your marriage to Brock was all about. What was going on with him? Why did he want to hurt you? Let’s not forget about the DNA tests.”

Horror came over Mara’s face. “Oh, shit! I forgot all about that. They took those hair samples. What are they trying to find?”

Leigha looked up warily. “I think they are trying to figure out if Brock’s body was actually in the car. A man without a head or hands is very hard to identify. They’re working with what little they have left of him.”

Raquelle turned to Leigha. “When did you turn into CSI?”

“Well, I watch a lot of crime shows, and there’s a lot of information on them about this kind of stuff.” Leigha sipped her morning white tea, not bothering to make eye contact with either of them.

“You know what? I don’t want to think about him today. Today is my day with my sisters. Screw him. He was miserable to live with and I probably should have left him, but that would have been another failure in Papa’s eyes. Besides, Papa seemed to like him so much.” Mara gave out a long sigh. “Let’s order room service and indulge in a wonderful brunch, go to the spa and shop. What do you say to that?”

She watched them carefully to see if they were onboard with her ‘new’ self. They both nodded and ordered a huge brunch, complete with French toast, Eggs Benedict, bacon, and fruit. They spent time chatting about what services they wanted done, and Raquelle gave Mara some advice on the Brazilian wax procedure. Smaller strips were better for first timers, and did she really want the ‘Hollywood,’ leaving her completely bare? She answered with a resounding yes. In her mind the pain couldn’t be any worse than sex. She wanted to know what Brock saw or didn’t see, but she would be the final judge and jury on her body. That’s right, score another one for Mara. She wasn’t going to be Pollyanna anymore.

Mara booked a spa day complete with manis, pedis, massages, facials and of course ‘the wax.’ She would meet up with her sisters after the scheduled body primping. Mara wanted to put on her best that night. She would be sure to wear her perfect mask with full makeup. They were going to hit the club and dance their asses off.

Screw Mac and his harem. I’ll find someone else.

She needed to cut loose a little and partake in some mixed beverages. She wanted to follow Raquelle’s prescription for partying. The girl knew how to party, always the star attraction, knowing how to work a room and bring in the guys.

Throughout the day, Mara reflected further on her relationship with her sisters. As close as she was with them, they each were so individual, adding different dimensions to their sisterly unit. Their closeness came out of necessity because of an absentee father and they needed to be there for Mama. They depended on each other for everything, especially day-to-day activities. Mama seemed to be submersed in a quiet despair, missing Papa with no way of getting to him. He seemed detached from his family for various reasons, including being married to his career and passionate about his artwork.

Mara wondered if her lack of knowledge about men somehow came from her distant, if not non-existent, relationship with her father. Apparently, she knew nothing about men; otherwise, she never would have dated, much less married, Brock. At first she was sad and then angry that she wasted all those years with him but like Leigha pointed out, “Things happen for a reason.”

She would love to figure out the reason for marrying Brock, the cheater and abuser. Once was not enough for her. No, she needed to be attracted to Mac, too, another liar. But her intuition nagged at her that something was different about Mac. Just the way he made her feel protected and cared for around him. Maybe his job in security made protecting people come naturally, giving them a sense of safety. He could certainly use it to his advantage to get laid. He could have anyone he wanted, so why hang out a woman with cracked parts? Her tears pushed behind her eyes as she analyzed the new revelations about her life.

Sitting in the tranquility area waiting for her sisters, she hoped the pain between her legs would soon go away. God, the wax hurt! Determination led her to want to see herself, and what she saw didn’t seem to be that out of the ordinary. She looked like everyone. The only other naked women she had seen were her sisters, but she hadn’t exactly examined and compared.

I’m satisfied with the results. I’m not really sure what Brock’s problem was, but you know what? Screw him! He’s dead and gone. I’ll find someone who loves all of me, head to toe. I wonder what Mac would think. Would he like all of me and like this?

Her sisters sauntered around the corner like two very lazy cats in need of a sunny window so they could stretch out and take a nap.

“Well, girls, how did everything go? Did you enjoy your spa day?” She fought back the tears so they wouldn’t start asking questions again.

Their skin was rosy buffed, with satisfaction and good health written all over them.

“Oh, yes. This hit the spot. I’m ready to go shopping, take a nap and be ready to dance my ass off tonight. However, you might not see me until tomorrow morning,” Raquelle wiggled her eyebrows, plopping herself down in the oversized, cognac-colored, butter-soft leather chair.

“Let me tell you, if Tom could give me a rub down the way Pablo did, I would have sex with him every day.” Leigha smiled contentedly which didn’t reach her eyes.

“You mean you aren’t having sex every day? What’s that about?” Raquelle teased Leigha.

Leigha reached out to smack Raquelle on the shoulder as they all started laughing. Only Raquelle, the one not in a relationship, would want sex every day. Mara hoped Raquelle’s future husband had a strong libido.

They got dressed and headed out for some shopping at the boutiques. The resort property boosted high-end stores with all the designer names like Celine, Armani, and Donna Karen. They frequently bought from those designers, having shopped in the city for them on a regular basis. But the unique French boutiques like Bebe carried some sexy sassy clothing, in case they wanted to show off their wild sides. Raquelle made a beeline for the sass-on-a-rack stores.

“This is the perfect store. Look at all the cool, funky, sexy dresses that can attract all the right attention.” She was as gleeful as a guy at a strip joint. Sometimes, funky sexy trumped designer.

Leigha and Mara sighed reading each other’s minds. “Oh, here we go again. She’s in the zone.”

“Oh, Mara, I spot lots of dresses that will look sexy hot on you. Here, come and try a couple on for me.” Raquelle went into her sing-song voice. They were doomed to end up with revealing outfits, hopefully ones with a little class.

After trying on close to twenty dresses each, they all picked a couple and, of course, shoes to go with each outfit. You couldn’t have one without the other, a traditional girls-out-shopping rule. They took their treasures back to the room, hanging them up, and heading to their rooms for long-awaited naps after a relaxing day.

Mara lay in bed, wondering what Mac was up to. Did he go out partying after the dive? Did he get together with the bimbo twins again? Better yet, why did she think about him at all? She knew why. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Mac wormed his way into her head, knocking on the welded door to her heart. He found a way to sneak behind her shield. The hold he had on her couldn’t be ignored. Her internal compass always seemed to point in his direction, steering her back to him. She hadn’t made this kind of connection with any other male on the planet and even with her lack of experience, something screamed ‘different’. Questions ran rapidly through her head.

What will I do when I see him again? I can’t let him know how much he affects me. That would be too easy. This time, I’ll play hard to get and if he wants me, he’ll need to work for it. What condition are my defenses in? Can I possibly survive him and his charm? There are other fish in the sea; I’m just not sure I want them.

She drifted off to sleep thinking about Mac and a million possibilities.

Mara woke up an hour later, hearing the murmurs of her sisters having an intimate discussion in the living room. As she poked her head around the door, they stopped talking and stared at her.

“Hey, how was your nap? Are you ready for dinner and dancing?” Raquelle beamed to distract her from their discussion.

“What were you two talking about? It seemed pretty intense.” Mara’s face showed a new determination. She wanted some answers and wouldn’t tolerate being left in the dark again by anyone.

“We’re talking about you and Brock. I can’t believe what a son of a bitch he was.” Leigha didn’t swear very often, making this a serious discussion.

Mara sighed as her shoulders sagged under the weight of her past. “Well, can I pick them or what? You know, after I got the wax today, I looked at myself and I don’t see what the big deal was. From what I can tell, I look like everyone else between my legs. I realized just how cruel Brock could be.”

“He was a douchebag. He probably suffered from small dick syndrome. I can’t believe the way he treated you and we didn’t know it.” Raquelle expressed herself creatively when she was angry, known for her one liners.

“I guess it would have helped if I had opened my mouth before now. But to tell you the truth, I was scared. I walked on eggshells around Brock. He got angry over nothing, and I was never sure what would set him off. I tried to keep the peace.” A memory came flooding back to Mara.

Mara, are you a moron or what? Why didn’t you give me the message that he called? I told you I needed to know right away. Are you trying to ruin my career, ‘cause you’re doing a great fucking job of it. Get away from me. You make me sick! You spoiled brat!

He always stormed off, slamming things along the way. In the beginning, she always ended up going to the formal living room and crying. Mara refused to bring that negative energy into her studio. Besides, she hated the formal living room. He insisted picking out the decor with ugly burgundy and purple accents. If she vomited in there, no one would be the wiser. As time went on, she became used to his rants and they rolled off her back, hardening her self-imposed prison, but then he would amp up the verbal assaults. As she examined it closely, she realized he made it a point to hurt her.

“What he did was so detrimental to you and your relationship with him. Promise that you won’t hide from us anymore. As for the sex thing, I think you should book an appointment with a therapist when we get home.” Leigha knew all the answers to any question you had about yourself, even those you didn’t even think to ask.

A therapist? Shouldn’t I see if it isn’t better with someone else first? Besides, did Brock really have a small dick? Compared to Mac, I’m beginning to wonder. The fact that I have no clue speaks volumes about my experience in the sack.

“I think you need to find yourself some booty. We’re going all out tonight and find you a man. Maybe we’ll run into Mac again. He’s hot! As for the two bimbos, forget about them.” Raquelle planned out their evening, making it sound so damn easy. Men were effortless for her but for the rest of womankind, they were like navigating a testosterone-filled labyrinth. You kept guessing where to turn next.

Their heads jerked up at a knock at the door. Raquelle bolted up to answer it, coming back with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers Mara had ever seen, a colorful array of dahlias. The card that came with them was addressed to Mara. Raquelle put the vase down on the glass tabletop and handed Mara the card. She opened it and softly gasped at the words.