A Few More Nights (Slice of Life) (2 page)

Marc Deasley was a practical man who dealt in reality, technical issues, and was renowned as one of the best energy engineers in the country.  What he was not known for was folly, flights of fancy, or being a believer in fate; that was, until today.  Rolland was his older brother by six years, and after the passing of their parents, he took on Marc.  Somehow his big brother managed to finish college, get a job and then help put Marc through school with the help of creative financing, proper usage and investing of their parent’s savings and life insurance, and the two had done well for themselves.

Rolland worked at several advertising agencies and ten years ago, he started some small freelance projects on the side. His brother had spoken several times of working with a young hotshot that could package and sell sugar to a diabetic.  The two worked side by side on several indie films and garage businesses which netted them a small nest egg to start a company.  Initially, the hotshot wanted no part, went her own way, and Deasley & Associates was started.  A year later, the hotshot was wooed back to the family. In less than six months, they had more accounts than they could handle and needed a new office. Rolland made Nadine Jordan a senior partner, with a big office and room to work her magic.  In the eight years that he had known Nadine, there had never been any sign of her personal life with the exception of some flowers, or one of her girlfriends picking her up. On a few occasions she had dinner with him and his wife, but he never got involved in her personal life, nor she in his.  His little brother was about to change the dynamic of his relationship with his right hand.

Over lunch, Marc searched for the right words to say to his brother, but at the moment none came to him. Finally, after a bite of his steak salad, “Rolland, you never told me that Nadine was a black woman,” Marc added casually.

“I never mentioned it because it was not relevant,” Rolland replied.

“Is that how you feel about her in general, or all people?”

Rolland wasn’t sure what his little brother was beating around the bush about, but he gave him leeway, “It is how I feel in general, people are people, good, bad, brown, or green.”

“I’m glad to hear you feel that way, Big Bro, because I’m going to marry that woman.”

Rolland’s fork stopped midair, “What woman?” he asked as he looked about the room.

“Nadine—what was her last name?” Marc shrugged, “Doesn’t matter, her new last name will be Deasley.”

Rolland still sat there with his fork in suspended animation, totally confused, slightly angered that his brother would waltz in and attempt to steal his right hand. “Why, how, what you just met her…what are you basing this on, what I have told you about her over the past years?”

Marc was chomping happily on his steak, “Nope, not true. I met her Thursday in Vegas.”

Rolland dropped his fork, “So, you honestly expect me to believe that in a city that literally has a million visitors every weekend,” he paused to catch his breath, “that you, fresh off a plane from Bumfuck, Alaska, run into my right hand?”

“That’s what I am saying.”

Rolland was still shaking his head, trying not to use his actual right hand to slap the shit out of Marc while trying to comprehend the plausibility of what he was hearing. “You expect me to believe, that my uptight, rigid, follow the rules, church-goingevery-Sunday Senior Partner, and you….in Vegas?” Marc noticed his brother’s mouth was turned in a disapproving frown, he was uncertain of what that meant. He gently nudged his brother to obtain some clarification on the expression.

“You unleashed six months of Alaska oilfield sexual frustration upon that beautiful, gentle-spirited woman?” Marc adjusted his posture to match his brother’s anger.

“Wait a second, Rolland. Anything that happened between me and my future wife was consensual.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I can’t, Roll. I think I might be in love.”

“Stop saying that as well! Get a grip on yourself!” Rolland needed some time to sort through the implications and ramifications of this; wait until he tells his wife Janice.

Marc planted the seed, “I am a gentleman, but I will say this: you have not asked me why I was two days late getting to Los Angeles.”

Rolland called the waitress over to refill his glass of ice tea. He called her back and requested a stiff drink instead, and exhaled a calming lungful of air, mumbling under his breath, “I don’t ever need to know.”

“Well dammit, you are going to listen to me!”  Rolland stuck his fingers in his ears making blah, blah, blah, sounds. “Roll, what that woman put on me required two days’ worth of ice packs.”

Rolland took his fingers from his ears, “In your mind, is that enough to base a marriage, a relationship—did you even know her fricking name before today?”

Marc could see his brother’s frustration with him. He remembered that look when he bought his first car, which was a lemon that broke down every other day.  Rolland gave him the same look when he brought home a stray puppy that infested the whole house with fleas; or the time he picked up a sofa from the side of the road that was crawling with bed bugs. Rolland made him burn it in the back yard. He smiled, he was a mere child then, he was a grown-ass man now, and he knew what he wanted.

In no uncertain terms, he told his brother, “The odds of staying at the same hotel, having that kind of chemistry, magic, and ability to communicate with someone is very rare.” Rolland saw the conviction on his face and softened. “I spent some very amazing time with her, and to walk in and find her in your office, is not just a coincidence; she is meant to be mine.”

Rolland was really proud of his little brother. When he initially took the job with Exxon, he had some doubts, but Marc moved up in the ranks pretty quickly. After his fiancée was killed in a car accident, Rolland thought his little brother would never date, or love another woman.  He could not count the number of objections he had to Marc taking the job in a remote part of Alaska, but he promised to come to the lower 48 every six months, and true to his word, he did just that, but this……

“My contract runs out in six months. I am not planning to renew it.”  He added that he was 35, tired, and wanted a family and someone to call his own, “I want her.”

“Will you at least try to get to know her with your clothes on before you marry the woman?”

The two brothers talked some more about Marc’s plans to open a small consulting business in L.A., pick up some smaller contracts, buy a home, and settle down. They returned to the office a little after one. The first thing Marc looked for was Nadine. She sat in her office, gazed fixed on the monitor; he found himself mentally willing her to look up.

Nadine could smell him when he entered the office and every hair on her arms stood up. She thought a few stood up on her cupcake as well. “Keep typing,” she cerebrally forced herself to not look up but her cupcake was aware he was here, and was now begging her to ask for some icing. He tapped on the door frame, “What time is dinner?”

When Marc asked if it was safe to enter her office, Nadine pointed to the chair in front of her desk. For a few minutes, he sat there, and took her all in, hair pulled back into a chignon, shirt buttoned up to the neck, everything covered up. Damn, what a magnificent woman Nadine—whatever her last name—was.

Nadine broke the silence, “So, you are the little brother Rolland is always going on about that lives in Alaska.”

“And you,” he exhaled with a loud gust of air, “are “his” right hand, his Nadine, the woman he swears he cannot run this company without.”

Nadine closed her laptop and looked him square in the eyes, furrowed her brow and was totally at a loss for words. Instead of finding the right things to say to him, Marc took the lead and said everything that should, needed, and begged to be stated.

“In the past five years, I have only entered this building three times, including the two times today. It was a fluke that his assistant mailed my new keys after I left Alaska and I had to come and borrow Rolland’s. Can you imagine my surprise to walk in and see you standing there?  I spent most of Saturday evening looking for you and felt as if I had lost something so precious that I would never recover from the emptiness of not being able to find you.”

Nadine’s eyes were wide, her expression was perplexed and she slowly leaned forward to look at his crotch. Marc asked, “What are you doing?”

She shook her head, “I just never heard you talk that much. I wanted to make sure it was actually you.” 

Marc smiled and put his hand over his junk, “It’s there, but I think you sprained it last week, Beauty.”

“You were the one being the beast.”  They both smiled and Nadine was grateful he had not closed the door.  She noticed her boss was in the corner peering at the two of them, she asked, “What did you tell your brother?”

Her cup of tea was in her hand as she peered over the rim at him, Marc’s answer made her spill the contents. “I told him there was a distinct possibility that you will be his sister-in-law.”

She tried to remain calm, “How did we get from two nights in Vegas to matrimony, Mark…or is it Marc?” Was he out of his mind, she had just learned his name a few hours ago and he was moving ahead to marriage? Another gander at her crotch, silently chatting with it, “See what you got us into, Cupcake?”

He was laughing and she then realized she had said it out loud, “Is that what you call her, Cupcake?  I do have the perfect frosting for your sweet little treat.”  Nadine found little humor in what was being said.  Her body language had not changed so that anyone peering into the office would only see a conversation between herself and a potential client. He leaned forward asking for a piece of paper; she obliged, but realized too late it was his opportunity to move closer.

“Being this close to you is driving me insane.” He made doodles on the page as he explained the odds of what has occurred between them being a million to one. It was unwise to ignore the lining up of the universe to connect the two of them and they deserved to see it through to know what is in store for them and their future.  His hand grazed hers and he inhaled deeply. He deepened his voice when he told her that the smell of her was sending him into a testosterone-fueled frenzy. He had started to sweat, “I have to get out of here.”  Marc went on to explain that he had shopping to do before heading back to Alaska on Thursday, lots to buy, lots to box, and get to air freight before taking his flight.

Nadine wasn’t falling back into the pit of lust with this sex demon, “What exactly are you asking me for, Marc? A few more nights of lust-infused passion?”

He was backing away from the desk slowly.  His pupils had dilated and his brow was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration.  He handed her his business card. “I will take the two nights to start, then we go from there, Beauty.”  He asked her to text him the address, and wanted to know what would be a good time to come over, “Because right here and now is not the time nor the place to have this conversation.” He was now standing in the door, looking at his brother.  His breathing was becoming more even, and he had stopped sweating. Damn, was she doing all of that to him?

“Six-thirty, Marc. Come over so we can talk.”

He was halfway out the door headed towards the front exit, but she heard his words as he turned, “Good, see you at home.”

All eyes in the office were upon her, including her boss. She raised her tea cup, smiled at him, opened her laptop, and began to rerun the numbers on the Wilson account. Her mind was still on his last words…see you at home.

The first thing Nadine did when she arrived home was change the sheets.  She turned down the covers, placing an open book on her side with her reading glasses perched precariously between the pages.  A couple of sprays of lavender on the pillows, an extra fluff, and she made her way to the laundry bin, tucking away any loose articles. Next she did a quick once-over on her bathroom. Wait. She ran back to check the nightstand on the other side of the bed—nothing that required batteries, or indicated frequent sexual activity was in the drawer.  She checked her nightstand as well to make sure that side was clear. Back to the bathroom with a couple of Lysol wipes over the toilet, then the bowl, she scrubbed the inside of the basin, then the sink. She changed into a pair of jeans—not too loose, not too tight—and a loose-fitted tee that said Universal Studios.

She had called Mr. Chan for a delivery and quickly realized she may have ordered too much food. She thought of Marc’s appetite and added an extra order of eggrolls. The maid had already serviced the condo over the weekend, and there was no need for dusting or hiding any embarrassing photos.  Her home was pet-, clutter- and junk-free. At 6:30, the buzzer rang and it was Mr. Chan.  She opened the front door to find not only him, but Marc also waiting patiently to be let in.

After placing the food on the counter, Marc gave the delivery man a fifty with instructions to keep the change.
There weren’t many cabinets, so his first guess of which one held the plates was accurate as he unloaded the food, and set the table. He made himself at home by going in her fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine for her while helping himself to a beer. He pulled out her chair, seated himself, and made them both a plate. The whole scene was surreal. Marc was extremely comfortable as he filled her in on the items he had purchased today, which were now on a flight up to Fairbanks this evening.

Other items he needed to buy were not crossed off his list as Nadine reviewed with him the best place to pick up the requests made by his crew. Evidently, Prudhoe Bay was 1200 miles from the Arctic Circle and somewhat remote. He was down for his six month break, leaving back out on Thursday, he added with a smile, “And what a week it has been.” By all accounts it appeared as a normal evening as they chatted away; he helped with the dishes, put the food away, grabbed the remote and sat on the couch, one arm draped lazily about her shoulders. Nadine didn’t know what to make of this; he sensed her discomfort.

“I couldn’t just walk in the door, jump your bones, then say what’s to eat,” he frowned, “Well, I could have, but I thought this was better.”  Nadine leaned into the warm cocoon he created with his arm and nestled against his side. Unwillingly, her eyes closed, inhaling the warmth and essence of him.  A warm hand was placed on her thigh; she could feel the heat radiating through the material of the jeans. She noticed his breathing had changing with his breaths coming more rapidly, then he asked, “What is that scent?”

She confessed that it was a body oil that she created at one of those stores in the mall. “It is driving me to distraction.”  His hand was moving up and down her thigh while the arm about her shoulders had slid downwards towards her breast.  “Beauty, I am trying to behave myself, but …” his words were lost when she gazed up at him.

Curiosity prevailed, “But what?”

Small kisses were planted on her face, her cheeks, then her neck, “But, the only thing I can think of is how long it will take me to get you out of these clothes.” He continued telling her of the things he wanted to do, how he wanted to do them, and she had already reached for his belt buckle. The instant she released the top button he sprang to his feet startling her. He almost seemed frantic when he asked, “Which way is the bedroom?” Nadine pointed towards the hallway.  It seemed like a silly question since the condo was only 1600 square feet. She gasped as he grabbed her off the couch, slung her over his shoulder with a swat to her ass, “Enough talking…..” was all he said as he started to kick off his boots and unfastened his pants while he walked down the hallway.

Before she had even hit the bed, he had taken her jeans halfway off, was struggling with his shirt, one boot was left in the doorway and he was half hanging off the bed. A couple of packs of condoms were placed on the night stand and within minutes he was fully undressed, ready and standing before her prepared to suit up. His body was magnificent.

His arms were covered in dark wavy hair that matched the light fur on his chest and the
a tad bit over
five o’clock shadow.  He stood at five feet eleven, weighing in at a solid 175 pounds. His abs were flat, his buns were firm and that, yes that instrument of pleasure, was about to make her do some wicked things.  In his hand he held the protection, but tonight, she ruefully admitted, she was extremely happy to see him and rolled to her stomach on the bed. A slow crawl took place as she made her way back to the edge where he now stood, and she lowered her head to take him into her mouth. She had not done this for him before and his knees buckled a bit. Enough encouragement was provided to draw him closer to the bed and on his back. She gently massaged the holders of life as she heard a deep breath, then his audible “oooooohhhhhh!”

She used her hands to massage low, grip mid, while her mouth became a vacuum on the bulb. He groaned, rolled his hips and dug his fingers into the mattress. She eyed his face as he chewed on his lip to maintain his control.  Nadine tightened her grip as she massaged up, then downwards, up, then downwards, up again, until he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her face to his. He kissed her passionately while his hands applied the protection as he rolled her to her back.  Nimble fingers checked her readiness but there wasn’t enough moisture to handle what he wanted and needed to do to her beautiful body.

He lowered his head, taking in a mouthful of her womanhood as he added extra lubrication with his tongue.  Her legs were locked around his shoulders as his hands took her small breast between his fingers. Nadine was barely holding on. His mouth was bringing so much pleasure that he could feel her need blossoming. He slowed his assault before he moved over her, preparing his entry. For some odd reason he removed the pins from her hair first to let the locks fall to her shoulders. “My Beauty,” he whispered as he pressed the tip of himself to her while making eye contact. “Mine, and no one else,” he plunged into her and she cried out his name.

He was relentless as he charged into her over and over. His hand slid down her side and under her right butt cheek as he raised her hip in the air. He rolled his hips under, and then thrust upward forcing her to arch her back in sheer pleasure. Before, her lover had no
name, but now armed with knowledge, she was unafraid to use it, “Marc, Marc, Marc,” he thrust harder each time she uttered his name. She was very close but he wanted it to last longer; he shifted his weight again to his side, kept rolling until she was lying on her left hip. He brought her right knee up to his chest, straddled her thigh and checked her face for comfort.  His first stroke was a tester that made her mouth drop open. The second stroke made her see stars, forced her eyes to water and caused her nose to run. Just when she thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he thrust so hard and she swore he had dislodged her ovaries.  She cried out, climaxed and crumpled on the bed. He shifted her back to the missionary position, whispered in her ear, “I cannot seem to get my fill of you,” before taking his time to find and achieve his own release. He held her close as he stroked her hair, telling her how magnificent she was, how beautiful, and how she had filled a void in his soul. Nadine thought it was all just pillow talk and added no credence to what he was muttering in postcoital bliss.

Marc made a quick run to the bathroom to discard his waste and he was back at her side, pulling the covers around them, holding her close. “Six months isn’t a long time, Beauty.  I will be back for you.” Understanding she had work in the morning, he only made love to her once more and held her through the night as they slept in silence.