Karma (27 page)

As
they came back to themselves.

As
they returned to earth from their shattering orgasms.

Marcy
looked up and met his eyes.

Gently
sweeping a sweaty strand of hair away from her face, Mike gazed at her with
love and adoration. His dark eyes were a reflection of her own, because she
felt the same way. They were separate people, yet she
knew
him. In a
lifetime they would know each other better, yet what she knew now was more than
enough.

It
was profound.

They
stared at each other, smiling. Marcy wanted to tell him her thoughts. Wanted to
let him know how close she felt to him, and how important he had become to her.

"I
love you," they both said to each other at exactly the same moment.

Marcy's
eyes widened in surprise, and his did, too. Amusement flashed across his expression.
That intense moment of connection dissolved into something ridiculous. They
both burst out laughing.

Mike
swung her up into his arms, strode to his bedroom and tossed her onto his bed.
He jumped in with her and they laughed and laughed and laughed until their tears
ran from their eyes and their stomachs were sore.

Afterwards
neither of them could figure out just what exactly was so damn funny.

"Are
you sure that you don't want to go out?" Mike asked her.

Propped
up on one elbow in his king-sized bed, his hand ran along her body, lazily caressing
her now familiar contours. Marcy enjoyed this casual intimacy of his. Last
night he had explored every part of her. She wanted him to do it all again.

"I
had a romantic dinner, music and dancing planned," he said.

"I'm
sure," she said, stark naked, propped on one elbow, mirroring his
position. "This has been the best day of my whole life, I swear. I want to
stay right here."

In
bed with you forever.

Marcy
was happy just to watch him, to cuddle, to touch – and to fuck like a rabbit. She
was insatiable. How did she get here? It seemed that she had a ton of sexual
energy stored up that she had been completely unaware of. Man, she had only
experienced vanilla sex so far – but in the horny over-sexed state that she was
in, Marcy wanted to try it all.

She
felt so comfortable being naked in front of him.

Mike
looked at her with lust, appreciation and desire. He made her feel beautiful
and totally uninhibited. For a moment she recalled André kissing Jennifer
Whittington's physical flaws and scars.

Mike
was like that. He treated her body with reverence, worshipping every part of
her. He acted as if she was a gift, like she was the best thing in his world.

They
had ordered a pizza and ate it in bed, she with red wine, and he with beer.
They had made love a number of times in a number of different ways, including a
bit of shower sex. She didn't always climax at the perfect time, or at all, but
she was certainly getting better at it.

Sex,
it turned out, was easy! It was exciting and enjoyable with the right person. Not
to mention that the glorious, euphoric sensations during climax were fan-fucking-tastic.
Having finally discovered sex, Marcy was addicted. She couldn’t get enough,
wanton woman that she was.

Mike
was the ultimate lover. She liked the sound of that."Lover." They had
made love: caressing, soothing - slow, and sweet and tender. They had also
fucked each other: biting and scratching like rabid animals - fast and furious
and desperate.

Marcy
had learned Mike's body intimately, just as he had gotten to know hers.

Making
love was natural. It was beautiful. Marcy grinned wickedly. It was also a hell
of a lot of good, clean fun (or naughty, dirty fun as the case may be.)

They
cuddled and kissed and discussed everything. Katie was a key topic, mainly
because they both were naturally focused on her future happiness. Mike cared
for Katie as much as he cared for Marcy. Was there any man out there that could
even come close to his perfection? Marcy didn’t think so.

Mike
thought that they should change Katie's school to something nearby, so that
Katie had local friends to play with. There were better schools in his ritzy
neighborhood, too. Not that Katie would give a damn about that.

Marcy
had to agree. Ordinarily, she would have resisted a move.
It was such a bummer for a kid. Changing schools was one of
life's biggest trials. Meeting all new children was super scary. Yet it was
almost December, the start of school holidays and a good time to change.

Besides, Katie's best friend Samantha was leaving her school then,
too.

They
chatted about what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. Marcy wanted
to finish her degree, learn how to cook Thai food, and travel. Mike talked
about his business, and how if he taught her security systems they could work
together. He also wanted to travel, and wondered if Katie would be able to learn
French or Spanish at school. Maybe she would like to learn both?

Marcy's
heart fluttered at his genuine interest in Katie. Mike adored her daughter, and
Katie, in turn, loved him. Could it get any better?

Having
children of their own was the only subject that they didn't discuss. Mike
seemed to be avoiding the topic, and so Marcy did, too. It was all very well to
say
"It's best to be honest,"
but half the time people lied or
avoided subjects because they didn’t want to hurt someone they loved.

What
if Mike was incapable of having kids? How could she talk to him about that?
Then again, he always used condoms. Safe sex was another topic they had yet to
discuss.

Marcy
put her hand on his shoulder, dipped down and slid her open mouth against
Mike's lips. "I think we should go again," she said, looking down at
his beautiful cock. It was already half mast. Her hand brushed along his chest
and abs, trailing along to his waist. "What do you think?"

Mike
laughed. In one quick movement he caught her by the wrist before her hand went
lower. "I think I've created a monster," he snorted.

"Rrrraaahhh,"
she growled. "C'mon. We've both have been missing out for ages! This is
just catch-up. Besides, I'm getting the hang of the whole orgasm thing."
She arched an eyebrow at him. "But," she paused for effect, "I do
need more practice."

With
effortless strength, he grabbed her and swung her on top of him. With a thigh
on each side, Marcy straddled him. Her breath caught. How freaking strong was
he? She licked dry lips. Her breasts suddenly felt full, her nipples hardened.

Goddamn
that demonstration of his strength was really hot.

Mike
rested his fingers upon her hips, in a gentle, yet firm grip. She laid her
hands on his warm muscular chest to steady herself.

"So
we are not getting out of this bed today?" Mike asked. An odd smile played
about his mouth. She couldn’t tell what it meant.

"Nope."

"That
means that when people ask how I proposed, I'll have to tell them that I was in
bed with you at the time?"

"You're
going to ask me to marry you?" she asked with a mischievous smirk.
"Again?" she added with a giggle, because she expected it. He did
that a lot.

"Yes,
but this time I have a ring," he said. He reached over, and opened a
drawer. His fingers pulled a small black box out. "Tell me that you'll
marry me," Mike said, holding the box out to her. "Show everyone that
we're committed to each other. Wear my ring."

Mike
bought me an engagement ring?

Stunned,
Marcy sat up straight and took the small black velvet box. She gasped when she
opened it. It was a round brilliant cut diamond set in platinum, with ten
perfectly matched diamonds, five on either side. Even in the low filtered light
of Mike's bedroom, it shined and sparkled like stars in a desert night sky.

"Too
much?" he asked.

He
laid a hand over hers and squeezed. Marcy turned her head away from the luster
of her engagement ring so that she could see his face. That odd smile was gone.
Her usually self-assured and confident man looked uncertain. Nervous even.

"I
bought it ages ago," he explained, speaking faster than usual. "But I
can take it back. We can get you a different one. You know, so you pick the
exact ring you want."

Emotions
swelled in Marcy's chest, too vast to explain. Somehow she didn’t know what to
say. Mike had bought this "ages ago." Really? How long had he known that
he wanted her?

Mike
had plenty of money. This wasn't just sex. Mike wasn't using her for some
ulterior motive. He wasn't just
saying
he loved her. He really did love
her.

Marcy's
eyes stung as she began to cry.

"Honey?
Are you alright?" he asked.

Her
breath hitched. "Are you kidding? This is the ring I want. It's gorgeous.
It's the most beautiful engagement ring in the whole world."

She
slipped it on the appropriate finger, and admired it. Then she wiped her eyes
with the back of her hand, leaned down and threw her arms around his neck. Her
head pressed in the curve of his shoulder. The scent and feel of him assaulted
her senses. Mike's arms wrapped like bands around her. Then he began to stroke
her back, her head and her hair. The sensation was utterly absorbing – a
tactile delight.

Marcy's
mind whirled. Katie was going to go nuts. They were going to be a family. Was Katie
too young to be a bridesmaid? She seemed too old to be a flower girl. But who could
play the part of her father? Who could walk her down the aisle and give her
away? André? Maybe Gustave?

Marcy's
first wedding had been pathetic. She had been hurt at the time, but Trent's sensible
financial practicality had convinced her. Later she found that Trent was in
debt and was never ever practical when it came to money.

Looking
back Marcy realized that Trent had been ashamed to marry her because she wasn't
the super model he dreamed of. In his mind Marcy wasn't good enough for him. He
had been using her as a stepping stone to greater things. Wasn't that a crazy
thing for someone to do?

Her
wedding to Mike was going to be a proper wedding. It would be an event to share
with friends and family. A romantic celebration of their love. It would be a special
memory that she would have all her life.

Marcy
had never been so happy.

"I'm
so glad that I found you," Mike said in a low voice. The sound of it
vibrated right through her, deep, male – and heartfelt. "I love you, Marcy
Paget."

"I
love you, too, Mike Thompson," she said.

Marcy's
heart was full. When she looked into his eyes, her mouth just blurted out. "I'm
not on the pill. Do you want… should we try to have a child together,
Mike?"

His
eyes lit with joy. "I thought you'd never ask," he said his teeth
flashing in an enthusiastic grin. He rolled her over and lay on top of her,
face to face. "Yes, I want us to have children." He gave her soft
feathered kisses to her mouth, her nose, her eyes, and her cheeks.

Stunned,
she said, "Why didn't you tell me that?"

He
stopped kissing her for a moment, and met her gaze. "Because, my love, I
didn’t want you to think that having children was the reason that I wanted to
marry you. I want you for you – whether we end up having a bigger family or
not."

Marcy
stared at him for one clear moment.

It
was an epiphany.

All
this time
he
had been avoiding the subject of having children, for her.
He didn't want to pressure her! But
she
had avoided the subject because
she didn't want to pressure him!

Marcy
threw back her head and laughed out loud.

"What?"
he asked, with a bemused smile.

"Remember
how you talked about how you and Barbara didn't have kids? You looked so sad
and upset. I thought that maybe you were sterile. I assumed that you couldn't
have them so I was avoiding the subject. I've been waiting for you to bring the
topic of having children up."

"Sterile?"
He pushed himself up on one arm. "Wherever did you get that idea? If I wasn't
able to have children I sure wouldn't be bothering with condoms."

"I
assumed that you were using them because your blood results aren't back
yet."

"Nope."
Mike shook his head, but he was still wearing that happy grin of his. "I
don't care about my blood results. There's no possibility that I have an STD
anyway."

They
chatted, explaining the mix-up to each other, laughing all the while. How funny
to have such a complete misunderstanding, Marcy mused. They hadn't communicated
because they were afraid of hurting each other. How stupid was that? It was a
good lesson. Even if you are worried that you'll upset your partner, it's still
better to be honest.

"André
is always telling people,
'
It's best to begin a
relationship in the manner in which you intend to go on,'
Mike said
.
"I swear that I will never lie to you,
Marcy. And from now on let's not avoid difficult subjects."

Marcy laughed. "Leave it to André to
have the last word. That is really good advice."

Mike rubbed his face and nose against hers, lightly
kissed her lips and met her
gaze. His beautiful
brown eyes were full and soft as he caressed her.

"I
love you, Marcy. I would have been happy for the rest of my life being your
husband and step-father to Katie, who is the best kid ever. But I also want as
big a family as you can stand. Five, ten…twenty children or more."

Marcy
giggled like child.

Her
antics and laughter was cut off when he plundered her mouth, using his tongue,
and his teeth. He played with her top and bottom lip, biting, licking and kissing
her soundly with absolute passion.

"Want
to get started?" he asked raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Her
hand went to his face, her fingers trailed lovingly over him. Was there any man
more perfect for her than Mike was?

"Oh
yes," she said. "Let's celebrate our engagement by trying our damndest
to make a baby."

The
sharp ring of Marcy's mobile phone interrupted them. Because it may be
something to do with Katie, she answered it.

"Marcy
Paget?"

"Yes."

"It's
me, Debra Berger."

"Oh,
hello, Debra," Marcy said and raised her eyebrows with a
"WTF?"
expression. Mike frowned in response. He knew who Debra was.

There
were some strange background sounds on the phone. Debra sounded like she was in
the kitchen of a restaurant or something.

"I
was hoping to see you," Debra said. "But before we meet, I need to
swear you to secrecy."

"What
do you mean?"

"Trent
can't know that you and I talked together," Debra said. "It's really
important."

"Debra,"
Marcy said patiently. "Trent is Katie's father. I can’t promise that I'll
keep secrets from him carte blanche, not when I don’t even know what secrets
I'll have to be keeping. I can’t promise anything."

"But
he'll be so angry if he knows I've talked to you!" Debra protested. "He'll
yell and…" she paused for a long moment, and when she spoke again she
sounded very young. "I hate it when he's mad at me," she finished in
a whisper.

Marcy
inhaled a deep breath. She felt sorry for Debra, innocent little lamb that she
was. She also identified with her. Trent had chosen another victim. That was
his M.O after all. He was also no doubt making the woman's life hell already.

"Hamburger
with the lot, up for table four," Marcy heard in the background of Debra's
phone. "Are you using a land line phone at a restaurant?" Marcy
asked.

"Yes."

"Very
clever," Marcy complimented her, well aware of the bravery that Debra was
displaying by calling. A little praise might help the poor woman get through
this. "Calling me from your own mobile would have been a big mistake. Trent
checks every call – but I guess you've figured that out already, haven't
you?"

Debra
gave her a kind of hysterical laugh. "Yes."

Marcy
considered for a moment. She wanted to help, and this poor woman sounded like
she was in real trouble. She slipped off Mike, sitting up on the bedside beside
him. Marcy kept a hand on him, running her fingers through his thick chest
hair. Touching him soothed her nervous tension.

Mike
lay back and put his arms behind his head, showing off those sexy muscular
biceps. He was well aware of who she was talking to, and was attentively paying
attention.

"Can
you give me an example of what I'm going to have to keep secret?" Marcy
asked.

There
was a long pause. "I'm going to trust you," Debra said. "Someone
I have confidence in says you're a nice person. I'm going to have to rely on
his judgment of your character."

"Okay,"
Marcy said, but she had no idea who Debra was talking about.

"Trent
thinks I've gone off the pill, but I haven't," she confessed. "He
wants a baby. I don’t want to have a baby with him until I understand more
about him. He's the head of the household. As my husband I should honor and
obey, but recently he's made me wonder about some things."

"Okay."
Resigned, Marcy sighed. "When do you want to meet?"

"Can
I see you tomorrow? I thought we would meet somewhere neutral. Perhaps at a
park or something?"

"Sure."
Marcy told her about Sunset Park and arranged to meet her at the basketball courts.
They would meet at ten-thirty Sunday morning, the next day. She explained that
the park was at the southern end of Las Vegas Valley.

"How
do you plan on keeping our little assignation secret?" Marcy asked.

"Trent
thinks I'll be in church," Debra said. "I never miss church, but this
time I'll go to and make my excuses to our minister. Then I'll slip out and
meet you."

"I
have no idea what you look like."

"Oh,"
Debra said. "I'm about five foot-eight, blonde and blue eyed. I'll be
sitting near the basketball court wearing a blue dress and a knee length red
coat if it's chilly."

"Okay.
Um…" Marcy began, "can I ask if there is something particular you
want to know from me? What exactly do you want to talk about?"

"Trent,"
Debra said. "I really need to talk about Trent. He told me that Katie
isn’t his child and that you were unfaithful. I wondered if he might have been
telling me a lie."

The
words on Marcy's lips vaporized in a flare of instant internal heat. She found
herself incapable of uttering a single sound. The noise of conversation around
Debra came to Marcy's ears through the phone.

The
loud buzzing hum of red fury came from somewhere deep inside her brain.

That
miserable piece of shit! That fucking asshole!

No
wonder Trent avoided his daughter, had never introduced her to his new wife,
and never had her to his home! Straight blonde hair, rounded face, and aquiline
nose. Except for having her mother's brown eyes rather than her father's blue
ones, Katie was the spitting image of the man.

Her
eyes narrowed and she scowled. Mike looked up at her with alarm and concern.
Well, she would explain later.

Fucking
Trent,
she thought.
Can't have that, can we?
Can't have anyone knowing Trent's secrets. Finding out his convenient, constant
and consistent lies.

Before
Marcy could say anything, Debra said, "I'm sorry. I've got to go. See you
tomorrow," and hung up.