The Black Chapel (13 page)

As he finds his release, he yells my name and thrusts into me one more time. He’s panting. I’m panting. His head sinks and his forehead rests on mine. We’re both sweating from it all.

He laughs. “I usually last longer, but you’re just so damn sexy, I can’t contain myself.”

I smirk.
He
can’t contain himself? “That was amazing, I say, still feeling my body coming down from the earth-shattering orgasm. How is my body reacting to his like this? Its like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

“You were made for me.” He kisses me on the cheek and rests his head on the pillow and then we both fall asleep.

I sleep like a baby. When I wake up, Michael is already in the shower. I notice that my body feels sore, and I feel sore down there. I like being reminded of last night, and I squeeze my thighs together when think of him being inside me.

Michael comes out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his narrow hips. I sit up and have to do everything in my power not to drool. His skin is wet. His hair is wet. Suddenly I’m wanting him again.

“Good morning, Scarlett.” He sits down on the bed next to me and kisses me lightly on the lips.

“Good morning,” I say. Geez, I hope I don’t look like a troll. My hair is probably crazy messy.

“Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you for asking,” I say. It’s hard not to stare at his firm physique. “Did you enjoy your shower?”

“I would have enjoyed it more if you would have been in there with me.” He leans over and kisses me.

I feel the blood pool in my lower abdomen. “Want to join
me
in the shower?” I ask.

His eyes intensify and he scoops me into his arms, wrapped in the silk sheet, carrying me into the bathroom. “Tub or shower?”

“Now that I have a choice, tub,” I reply.

He sets me down onto the marble floor and turns the water on. The tub is huge and it has jets. He doesn’t waste any time and lifts me up onto the granite counter, letting the silk sheet fall, spreading my legs with his towel-covered thighs.

I already feel the throbbing pleasure between my legs. “You make me so wet,” I whisper in his ear.

“I want you again, Scarlett. How do you do this to me?” Two fingers glide inside of me, and he stares me in the eyes. “Do you like this?”

I moan. “Yes.”

He keeps moving his fingers faster and faster and then he removes his towel.

My eyes open wide at the sight of his erection. I’ll never get used to his size, I think. He kisses me and then says, “How do you want it?”

I don’t know what to say, because I only want it now, hard, fast, deep.

He presses the tip of his erection against my sex, and massages me up and down, driving me crazy. I just want him inside. Then he takes my hand and guides it to his erection.

“Touch me, Scarlett. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you inside me,” I say. “Please—”

He smiles and then without warning, het thrusts himself inside of me hard. He keeps thrusting again and again deep, and hard. “Scarlett, say you are mine. Say it.”

“I’m yours, Michael,” I say.

“I want you to always remember how much pleasure I give you.” He’s moving faster now, stroking the entire length of him in and out, filling me with heavenly ecstasy, driving me to higher gratification with each stroke.

“Say it again,” Michael says.

“I’m yours, Michael.”

“Do you want more?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say.

He pulls out of me, guides me off the counter and turns me around. Then he bends me over, spreads my legs and directs himself back inside.

Oh, the pleasure! I’m holding onto the counter for dear life as he begins to move. The pleasure is even more intense this way. His hands grope my hips and he thrusts into me, pulling my hips backward and forward so we slam into each other again and again. He’s moving faster now, and I feel myself build, coming up to the peak where I’ll soon find my release.

“Oh, Michael,” I say. I feel myself come now. “Oh, Michael,” I say again as I go over the top.

“Yes, come for me, baby,” Michael says. Our eyes connect in the mirror and I see the pleasure on his face, an agonizing expression filled with passion and lust. He yells my name as he comes, “Scarlett.” He moans at the very last thrust as the climax rips through him. Then his head sinks and we are still panting, but motionless, like the calm after the perfect storm.

Once Michael’s come down, but still inside of me, he stands me up and we look at each other in the mirror. He grabs my breasts and squeezes them. “You make me go wild,” he says.

I make him go wild? I smile mischievously. “But just remember, this doesn’t change our deal.” I look at him and smirk.

He barks a laugh and then kisses my cheek. “Agreed.”

“I thought we might fly out to New York today to see the
Sound of Music
,” he says once we’re finally in the tub. It’s a huge tub with jets and he’s added bath salts and oils. I’m sitting between his legs and we’re both facing the same direction. “What do you think?” He kisses my neck, and I feel a thrilling tingle all the way down to my lower abdomen.

“I really wanted to visit my father today. Do we have time for both?” I say.

He pauses for a moment. “Yes. If we fly out by 3:00 p.m., we’ll make it.” He pauses for a moment. “May I come with you to see your father?”

This is a shady area. I don’t know if I want Michael to meet my father just yet. It’s too soon. Things could change between us, and heaven forbid, could blow up and hit the fan.

“I’d really like to go alone,” I say, hoping he won’t take offense.

“Okay. You’re right. It’s too soon. But can I meet you for lunch after and then take you shopping? Then we could pick out a couple of dresses, one for Broadway tonight and one for Christmas Eve tomorrow.”

I smile. “Sure.”

“So did you book tickets yet?” I ask.

“No, we’ll be flying my private jet.”

“Oh,” I say. Hadn’t considered that outrageous possibility.

I arrive at my father’s assisted living facility at 11:15 a.m. I can’t wait to tell him I’ve come up with the money to pay for his chemotherapy treatments—all of them. What a wonderful Christmas present it will be.

I ring the doorbell and the nurse buzzes me in.

“Any changes I need to be aware of?” I ask, stopping briefly by the front desk.

“No. Your father has been asking for you, though.” The old nurse looks like she has a frown permanently engraved on her face.

I feel guilty immediately for not having visited my father more this week. Normally I’d see him every day, but normally I’m only one person with no boyfriend. Now I’m playing the part of two people and both have boyfriends.

I head to his room and when I enter, he’s sitting in a chair in front of the TV watching the Nature Channel. He’s wearing his larger than necessary, I think, glasses and a comfy red and green flannel shirt and jeans. My heart swells in my bosom. I love this man, deeply. He’s worked so hard all his life to provide for Mom, and me and now he sits here and wastes away in an old-folks home, waiting for the cancer to take him. I tear up, but then he notices me.

“Scarlett!” He looks overjoyed when he sees me. He struggles to his feet but I tell him he should just stay seated. I encircle him in my arms and try to get rid of the growing lump in my throat. He’s a shadow of a man compared to the great man he used to be. He’s so thin, all skin and bones.

“I have some great news, Dad.” I sit down in the fold-up chair next to him and dry my eyes.

“Oh?” His face is hallow and gray, and his skin hangs. The shadowy circles under his eyes are disturbingly dark.

I scoot to the edge of my seat and take his hand in mine. “I’ve come across a wealthy individual who has offered to sponsor your chemotherapy treatments,” I say.

He doesn’t respond the way I expected him to. “I don’t know, Scarlett. I’m so tired and sick. This illness has taken so much away from me.” His head falls to the back of his chair and his eyes wander to a place I don’t know.

“But this is the cure. It will heal you and make you better,” I say.

“Well, there are still risks, and there will be a lot of pain in the process, Sweetie, I just don’t know if I have it in me to go through all that.”

“But you have to! You can’t just give up now!” I say.

“Calm yourself, Scarlett. If it’s my time, there’s nothing that can stop me from dying. I’m not saying I won’t accept the generous offer or treatments, I’m merely letting you know how I feel.”

“You have to do it. That’s an order.” My lips perch.

My dad smiles. “Always the one to take matters into her own hands.” He looks me in the eyes.

“Well, I can’t just sit idly by and watch my dad die.” My heart feels heavy. He has to say yes. He has to! “I have some other news, too.”

“More? Oh dear. Too much excitement for one day.” He shakes his head.

“I’m engaged.”

“Engaged? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. When did this happen?” He doesn’t seem happy at all.

“It happened all so sudden,” I say and look down at the floor. “He’s a good man, though.”

My dad shakes his head. “Do I know the man?”

“Maybe. His name is Michael Manning,” I say.

“The young real estate tycoon?” My dad’s eyes widen.

“Yes,” I say. “He proposed and we’re getting married on December 31st.”

My dad looks unpleasantly shocked, disturbed even. “But why so soon?”

“Michael’s mother is suffering from terminal cancer, and we wanted to have her see the wedding before she—”

“I see,” my dad says. “I suppose that makes sense. But do you
know
that he is a good man?”

“Yes,” I say, but in the back of my mind, I’m not so sure.

“What is it, Dear?” my dad says.

I’ve never been able to keep a lie from my dad. “Nothing. It’s just, I wish Mom had been here for all of this.” And that’s the honest truth.

“Your mother would have loved to see you happily married off,” my dad says. “Would she have approved?”

His question takes me by surprise. “I think so.”

My dad’s eyes squint. “I think so, is not a good enough answer. Not for my daughter. Don’t rush into this if it’s not the right thing for you, sweetie. Marriage is nothing to take lightly. One should marry for love only, and that is only when it will last.”

Well too bad my marriage already has a divorce clause in it, I think.

“Have you spoken about the boring details like what you will do with the house?”

“Yes. We’ll be paying off the mortgage so you own it free and clear,” I say.

He nods slowly. “It certainly makes life easier when you have no financial worries.”

“I know. So do I have your blessing?” I ask.

“Only when you know for certain he is the one,” my dad says.

“He is the one,” I say and smile. “Michael makes me happy.” And miserable.

“So am I invited to the wedding?”

“Not only are you invited, I want you to give me away, Dad,” I say.

My dad’s eyes brighten and his eyes gaze over. “It would be my honor.”

“Would you consider coming to celebrate Christmas Eve with us?” I ask.

“I’d love to, Scarlett, but I am just in too much pain. Just come and visit me on Christmas Day, will you?” my dad says.

“Ok” I say.

I’m at the mall. I see Michael in the distance, so tall and so striking. I’ve completely fallen for this man, but I’m not willing to admit it openly yet. This is just crazy, though. What have I gotten myself into? I have to tell him that I’m Samantha and Scarlett, but just not yet. I have to find the right time and place, but not right here, and especially not on Christmas Eve. The mall is crazy busy with last minute shoppers desperate to find that one last perfect present.

Michael’s busy texting or emailing someone from his blackberry. I walk toward him, feeling the swarm of crazy butterflies in my stomach multiplying like wildfire. He doesn’t see me yet, which I’m grateful for, because I’d feel silly if he watched me walk all the way to him. He is so sexy, that man. I think of our amazing night last night and equally amazing rendezvous this morning. I could marry this man tomorrow and be happy forever, I think. Especially now that he’s forgotten about Samantha. Maybe Samantha will just slip away and he’ll never know the truth. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, right?

I stop right in front of him and clear my throat just loud enough over the congested noise of the mall-goers. “Who are you texting Mr. Manning?”

He takes my hand and pulls me so hard toward him that I nearly fall to the floor. But he catches me instead and kisses me on the lips.

“It’s just business Mrs. Manning,” he says.

I laugh. “Well, don’t mix business and pleasure.” He helps me sit up and I adjust my newly messy hair.

He leans over and whispers directly into my ear. “You. Are. So. Fine. I want you here and now.”

My entire body tingles, and I want this man to yes, take me here. Take me now.

He sits up, acting as if he just didn’t propose we do the forbidden on this bench. “How about we go to Saks Fifth Avenue?” he says casually.

It takes me a moment to get back from the depths of desire. “I don’t think my budget—”

He pulls me up by my hands. “It’s my treat.”

I look at him. “I thought—”

“Okay, it’s an advance. I’ll subtract it from your paycheck.”

I frown and stick my tongue at him.

“Did you just—?”

“Stick my tongue at you? Absolutely.” I say.

He pulls me in close wrapping his muscular arms around me and says, “Oh, what I can imagine your tongue doing to me.”

Having sex with Michael in the middle of the shopping mall sounds very reasonable at the moment. I squeeze him tight and exhale slowly.

“You are one hell of an amazing woman,” Michael says. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

I’m amazing? I shake my head.

“Well, you are.” Our eyes lock and he pecks me on the lips. “Now let’s go shopping.”