Karma (16 page)

Mike picked up Marcy, Katie and her friend Sam from their
condo just after four pm.

Everything's different today,
Marcy realized, when she saw the hungry determined look in Mike's eyes.
Was
it because he told me he loved me? Or because he can sense the change in me?
Why is he looking at me like that?

When the two girls ran into their bedroom to get into
their swimsuits, Mike quickly pulled Marcy into an out of the way alcove.
Stunned, Marcy froze into stillness as she was pinned against a wall by Mike's long,
lean body.

Undeterred, for a long moment he studied her face,
drinking it in as if she were the most valuable thing in his world. Never had
anyone looked at her the way that Mike did. His open, honest expression made the
nervous ice in her veins melt. His sensuous lips mesmerized her.

He doesn’t just want me,
Marcy realized in a jolt of shock.
This is something more.

W
ith his hands firm upon her
shoulders, and without a single word, his lips met hers. Other than morning
stubble, Marcy had never kissed a man with facial hair. The sensation was unique
and enticing.

Mike
shifted one hand, putting it around her jaw and throat. Using his tongue he
teased her lips apart. Desire rushed through her, flooding her body in a wave
of heat. The heady male taste, scent and feel of him besieged her senses.

Marcy
breathed in a shaky breath, and heard a small sound from deep in her throat. Mike
didn’t pull her against him, nor did he deepen the kiss. He only touched her
mouth with slow, maddeningly cool control.

Somehow
that made his kiss even more overwhelming.

Marcy's
heart pounded loudly in her chest – thud, thud, thud. Her eyes drifted shut -
all the better
to feel
. Her breath caught as sensation coursed through
her. Tingling, throbbing,
need.
When he pulled back Marcy took a moment
for her eyes to open. When they did, she simply stared at him.

Mike's
face was composed. There was nothing to show that he had been affected at all,
except for the fire and triumph in his eyes.

"Oh…
wow…" she whispered.

"Tell
me about it," he growled.

Kissing
Mike Thompson had been far more erotic than the times that she had actual had
sex. Marcy's whole body throbbed. She felt buzzed, invigorated and alive. She was
also lightheaded. Was she going to faint? Maybe she should sit down?

"Mom!
What towel should I bring?" a small voice yelled out from upstairs.

"I
have plenty of towels, Katie," Mike yelled back while still gazing into
Marcy's eyes. "Don't bother bringing any."

Mike took a step backward, away from her. Marcy, on
unsteady legs, went to her room to pack a few of her own things – and to sit
down and catch her breath.

The plan was for them to come for a swim at his house,
and have dinner there. Mike had a heated lap pool in his backyard, as that was
his favorite form of exercise. It was deep enough on one end for diving, too.
The other end had a slide for his nieces and nephew to play on. Mike was an
extremely doting uncle.

The two girls chatted happily in the car to each other
and to Mike. The November sky was deep blue, set off with a few puffy white
clouds, little breeze and with virtually no chance of rain. It had been a warm
day, hitting seventy, but had cooled off considerably. With Mike's heated pool,
it was never too cold to swim.

Because of the evening traffic, it was a thirty minute drive
to get to northern Las Vegas where Mike lived. Marcy couldn’t stop thinking
about that look, and that kiss. Trent had told her that she was frigid, but
Mike's kiss had sure defrosted her. She had to wonder, just how hot could he
make her anyway?

Marcy fully intended to tell Mike about why she was avoiding
sex. She'd explain about the intimacy she had witnessed with André, and how she
realized that while Trent had been living a lie in their marriage, she had been
living a lie, too.

If Jennifer Wittington had been brave enough to take a risk,
she could do the same. Why not? Mike would be easy to talk to.

At thirty-four years old, Marcy had never had an orgasm.
That was her big secret. Too bad the damn subject was so embarrassing. Why was
that? Was it because she felt flawed? Stupid? Shy? Or was it because she had
failed so completely as a woman and a wife?

At least I'm a good mother,
she
thought.

Mike was a wonderful male role model. Katie was
constantly seeking him out, holding his hand, or making him play games with
her. The patient man seemed to genuinely enjoy Katie's company.

Her poor daughter had been starved for a bit of male
attention.

When Mike parked his BMW on the driveway, they all got
out and the girls raced ahead. Mike put his hand low on her back, courteously
guiding her inside. That man and his touching! He intentionally made a point to
touch her as often as possible. The heat from his fingers seared her, creating
a heavy warmth low in her belly.

Mike certainly got her going alright. Yet Marcy doubted that
she could climax. Somehow she always tensed up, became inexplicably shy or felt
stupid in bed.

"Go on through and I'll get us some wine," he
said as they walked past the family room to the glass sliding doors.
"White okay with you?"

"Sure," Marcy said.

She and the children went straight through to the back
yard, where Ziggy joyously ran in circles around the girls, barking and
bringing them his Frisbee. The sound of girlish giggles could be heard as they
threw the Frisbee as far as they could. Ziggy obediently ran to get it, and
then ran back, dropping it at their feet. Back and forth, back and forth,
throw, retrieve, throw, retrieve.

Happy and well-trained, Ziggy was a well-loved member of
the family. The dog and the girls adored the game.

Mike
came out with a couple of glasses of 'Yellow Tail' Chardonnay from Australia,
and handed her one. She took a sip as she sat down; it was fresh, summery and
ice cold
. Perfect.

"You girls go ahead and have your swim," Mike
said. "Because I have to get inside and make dinner soon. You can play
with Ziggy later."

"Okay, Mike," they chorused.

It was Mike's home, so of course he was in control, Marcy
thought. Yet the way he spoke to the children in an adult manner, explaining
rather than just ordering them around intrigued her. The girls wanted to comply
because they liked him. He had already told them to call him Mike, refusing to
be called Mr. Thompson.

Mike's
pool furniture was pretty ritzy, and was as comfortable as an indoor couch.
They lounged beside each other on separate reclining chairs, supervising the
children while they played in the pool.

"Ziggy, come," Mike gave the quiet command.
With his tail wagging, Ziggy instantly galloped over to his master and lay
down, rolling over for a tummy scratch. "That's a good dog," Mike
said, patting and cuddling him for a long while. "That's my big boy."

Ziggy sat up suddenly, pricking his ears as a young man
stepped through the back gate. Marcy thought he looked about twenty-four years
old, with dark brown hair and golden brown skin. Trembling with excitement,
Ziggy whined.

"Hi, Mr. Thompson!" yelled the young man.

"Hi, Martin," Mike replied, raising a hand in
greeting. "Go ahead, Zig. Go. Go visit your pal." Super excited,
Ziggy charged off to greet his friend. It was a testament to his training that
he didn’t jump up on the young man. Martin petted him and rubbed him with
enthusiasm.

"I just wanted to check over the pool pH balance
before Thanksgiving," Martin said. "Is this a bad time?"

"Will the girls be in the way?"

Martin looked over at the two kids, smiling at their
antics. "No, they're okay."

"Go ahead then," Mike said.

"Thanks." With a wave goodbye, Martin
disappeared into the locked pool shed, with Ziggy trailing along behind him.

"You have a pool guy?" she asked. "That's
convenient."

"You bet. He makes it all look easy. I pay him
monthly and he takes care of everything in his own time. He's a good kid. He
started up this business while putting himself through veterinary school. I
think he'll be finished this year."

The girls giggled riotously while they chased each other.
Down the slide, into the water, swim across to climb out, up the stairs, down
the slide, and do it all again. Just watching was exhausting. The sounds of
laughter, and a subtle trace of chlorine filled the air.

"Those two are going to sleep well tonight,"
Mike murmured.

Marcy laughed and took another sip of wine. "You got
that right."

She
smelled a hint of 'Pale Evening Primrose,' before she saw the delicate white
flowers in a rock garden near the house. In the heat of the Nevada day, the
blooms stay closed. Yet as the sun lowered they opened, release a pleasing unique
fragrance.

With the girls far away and diverted, Marcy thought that it
was time to get up the courage to talk to Mike about some things. Swallowing
the last of the wine, she put her glass down on the side table. She had even
rehearsed exactly how to start the conversation.

"So, I watched André work with a woman on the
screens of the security room today," she began.

Clearly stunned, Mike sat up straight and turned toward
her. "You did?"

"Yeah, I did," she said.

He gave her a considering look. "You don't seem disturbed
or upset. That's probably a good sign. Did you want to tell me about it?"

Marcy inhaled a deep breath and leaned forward, resting
her elbows on her knees. "I told André that I thought it was
one
of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life."

Mike's eyes widened and he gave her a slow smile of
understanding. "You saw an intimate moment where two people were being
completely honest with each other."

"Yep," Marcy said, not at all surprised that
Mike understood. "That's exactly what I saw."

Katie gave a high-pitched scream and then a shriek of
laughter. The other young girl, Sam, yelled, "Got cha! You're it!"
and took off running back along the pool and then up the rungs of the slide.

Mike jumped to his feet and strode toward them.
"Hold on girls," he barked out in a no- nonsense command.

The two girls stopped immediately and looked at him.

"I love your game," he said. "It looks
like a lot of fun. The problem is that with all this water, and you two
running, I'm worried that one of you is going to slip and hurt yourself. So
this is what I'm thinking. You girls play the exact same game
but,
you
are only allowed to walk real fast, okay? No running."

"Okay, Mike," they said together, and started
their game up again, but this time at a rapid walk.

The
interaction astonished Marcy. Mike had snapped out that order in a fatherly, loving
and concerned way. The kids hadn't been frightened by him at all. They were
happy to obey him. She was shocked that Mike would feel empowered to correct
her child, but she was also comforted by his protective instincts and natural
authority. Mike had the kids' best interest at heart.

Already
he was a better father than Trent had ever been. That fact was a little
overwhelming.

Mike grinned at her as he walked back to her. "To
you, Marcy," he said, raising his glass toward her in a toast. "A
rare and amazing woman, able to see past the details and understand exactly
what it is that André does." Mike drank the last of it down in a gulp. He
put the glass next to hers on the table.

A flush of pleasure raced through her at his praise.
Marcy supposed that she should be getting used to it by now. Unlike Trent, who
only seemed to notice what she did wrong, Mike constantly pointed out all the
things she did right.

Marcy explained how she had first seen André kissing Jennifer's
scars and admiring the evidence of childbirth. She detailed the riding crop,
which freaked her out, and the woman's amazing orgasm, as well as Jennifer and André's
candid discussions.

Marcy took a deep breath. "André said to me that
some people hide, conceal and pretend. No one really knows them because they
let no one in."

Mike smiled, leaned forward and took her hand. He held it
gently. Reverently. The heat of his touch spread, his energy sending thrilling
warmth throughout her body. His touch was strangely comforting, yet also
arousing. What was that about? Marcy wondered. How could it be both?

"I know you, Marcy," he said, squeezing her
fingers.

"Yes, but you don't really, do you?"

Mike cocked a brow, and grinned. "I've seen you with
Ziggy, and I trust his judgment. He loves you." She smiled at that. "Besides,
you like him, too. A woman that loves animals has lots going for her."