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Authors: Kenzie Macallan

Riveted (Art of Eros #1) (11 page)

BOOK: Riveted (Art of Eros #1)
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Marabella,

I will be with you again. This isn’t an end but a beginning. I know what you must think happened, but looks can be deceiving. Dahlias are the native flower of Mexico. They are everywhere I look, much the way you are everywhere in my mind. I picked these flowers because they remind me of you. The cream-colored flowers with rose-colored tips remind me of the blush on your skin. The blue-purple ones remind me of the color of your eyes the first time I saw you on the plane. You captivate me. We haven’t talked since the dive, and I think I need to clear up some things between us.

Mac says, see you soon.

P.S. I’m holding your red dragon hostage, but he’s drying out quickly. Time is running out.

Mac left his cell number, once again giving her control of the next move. Mara read the card a couple of times, noting the balance of romance, charm, and humor. Damn him anyway! He wasn’t going away anytime soon, which gave her mixed feelings. She showed the card to Leigha and Raquelle, hoping they would tell her the next move. They both hummed at the heartfelt words. At the very least, she would text him, thanking him for the flowers and the effort of putting it all together. As she began to text, Raquelle reached over and snatched the phone away from Mara, sprinting for the bathroom before closing the door behind her. Mara ran after her, but was too late.

She pounded on the door furiously. “What the hell are you doing, Raquelle? Do not send him some perverted text. Do you hear me?” She turned around as Leigha snapped pictures of the flowers with her Nikon 7100—her ‘casual camera,’ as she liked to call it. Leigha took every opportunity to take photos everywhere they went, even with her phone. No doubt the scrapbook would be very full after this vacation. Leigha’s other obsession, putting together photo albums of all events of their lives. They had volumes of all their big events from the time they were children, thanks to Leigh’s avid picture-taking.

Raquelle stepped out of the bathroom with a wicked smile on her face that told Mara she had done something left of center.

“I thanked him for the flowers, informing him you’d be out dancing tonight and you would catch up with him sometime tomorrow. You can’t let him think he holds all the cards, darling.” Raquelle really just set the bait for Mac.

“Fine. But I was going to thank him for the flowers and leave it at that.” Mara’s voice held a pissed off tone. She hated when Raquelle took too much control of other people’s decisions.

“Don’t worry, Mar. You may get yourself some booty yet.” Raquelle giggled like a teenager going to the prom.

“Mara, I, for one, don’t think you need a ‘booty call’. You’ve got a lot to sift through before you move on. By the way, what’s the reference to the red dragon?” Leigha was the voice of reason and curiosity.

“I must have dropped the new muse I was working on in the sand when I was putting stuff in my bag. I guess he picked it up. God, I’m so confused I don’t know which way to turn any more. I really like Mac but I can’t believe I’m attracted to another player. I know I need to get out there and take a chance, but it needs to be a calculated chance with my eyes wide open this time. I do want to feel connected to someone, someone genuine. What Brock did was abusive, but I’ve got to move forward and try not to move backwards.”

She choked on the last sentence because hearing it said out loud confirmed what she already knew—her marriage was a sham and destructive, at the very least. As confusion set in, another rivet come loose, letting a small ribbon of light into her world. She wanted to bathe in the light. Just talking about her emotions made the wall fall away somehow. She started to let go of her past mess with Brock. Dead and buried was where she needed to leave him.

“You don’t know for sure if he’s a player. Keep an open mind until you get to know him better. I have a good vibe about him. I don’t know why.” Raquelle was having one of her serious moments and her instincts were usually dead on about people, which gave Mara a bit of hope.

They ordered a light dinner in the suite and lounged in the hot tub before getting ready to go out. They needed the relaxation and playfulness of just being together. Being in Mexico finally felt like they left ‘The City’ behind and were ready for frolicking and fun. The stress slowly ebbed away from all of their pressured lives back home. They were unaware that a storm was brewing that they would all need to brace for, relying on each other like never before.

 

Chapter 11

 

As Mac sat back to take stock of the events of the last couple of days, he received a text from Mara. It thanked him and then gave a clue to his next move. His card might have been a little much, but he needed to get across that he hadn’t given up on her. He’d never taken this kind of leap before, but he was already full steam ahead with no turning back. As if on a sailboat, he sensed the change in the winds, forcing him to alter the sails. He sensed that something was steering him in the right direction.

Mara’s text expressed an attitude of short, sweet, and to the point. She would see him when she was ready. Really? He would be at the club because no way in hell she would be out without him having eyes on her, especially with those legs. He twirled the red dragon in his hand absentmindedly while he plotted for the night’s outing.

~

Raquelle picked out Mara’s dress for the evening, what was left of it. It featured a tightly fitted sleeveless bodice in azure blue, plunging in the front with crisscross silver ties in the V-shaped neckline. The plunge in the back went halfway down with the same crisscross ties. It flared at the bottom, more than a couple of inches above the knee, shorter than she was comfortable with, but it was time to get daring.

The silver metallic shoes sported four-inch heels. They made her butt look great, adding length to her legs. The cups in the dress pushed up her breasts nicely, and she braved a G-string. She lacked the courage to go commando. She felt naked and nervous, wearing next to nothing under her dress and minus any hair.

Breathing deeply, she applied makeup to her face, her mask in place for the evening. As if time had accelerated, she hardly recognized the person in the mirror from twenty-four hours before. It might’ve been a little too much too soon, but her sisters were with her, making her feel safe. She craved even more of the light. She hoped her night out would give the steel rivets the push they needed to find their way loose and let in the light.

She came out of the bathroom and stopped to give Leigha the once over in a red dress with a slit up the thigh, the material draping seductively in the front and back. The red shoes matched her dress, making her stand over six feet, a striking Amazon woman. Of course, Leigha’s clutch came equipped with a camera. Raquelle, on the other hand, dressed to kill. She picked out a silver dress with a scoop neckline that hugged every curve and left nothing to the imagination. Mara guessed Raquelle skipped the underwear. Her shoes, black with crystal accents, making her shimmer from head to toe. Mara hoped Fish Boy knew what he signed up for.

“Well, don’t you two look stunning! You’re going to turn every head in the club tonight.” Mara had a huge grin on her face and a long lost sparkle in her eye.

“I’m not worried about that tonight. I want to party with my sisters. It feels like a block has been lifted between us. I’m not even sure we knew it was there but as soon as we started talking about that asshole Brock, things changed between us. I guess in the end, Brock was good for something.” Raquelle’s moment of introspection took Leigha and Mara by surprise.

“You’re right. I feel closer to you both. We’ve never talked about sex before, and I had no idea what was going on with Mara. I just felt something was off.” Leigha confessed her intuition wasn’t voiced. They never talked about the more intimate parts of their lives, but that all changed with Mara’s confessions of being an abused wife.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. I didn’t know what to do. I was stuck with nowhere to turn. I thought what I was going through was normal for a married couple. Now that I know different, it pisses me off. But I also need to move forward with my life and leave him behind, where he belongs.”

Leigha and Raquelle came over and gave Mara an understanding hug, realizing that it took this revelation to bring them closer.

“I guess I don’t have to ask if you ever had an orgasm during sex.” Raquelle abruptly broke the intense but tender moment by playing sex therapist again.

“Who has an orgasm during sex? I don’t think the majority of women have orgasms during intercourse.” Leigha came to Mara’s defense, but something else was at work there. She dropped her eyes down when she finished her thought.

“Speak for yourself, Leigha. You just need to let go enough to let it happen and work with the proper equipment.” Raquelle let out a heavy sigh. She had no trouble letting go, it seemed. “Enough sex talk. Let’s go. You two should loosen up tonight and get wild, although I doubt you will.” Raquelle hit a brick wall with her sisters.

Down at the club, the music thumped as bodies kept time out on the sunken dance floor. The lights created a hypnotic atmosphere as Usher sang “DJ.” Bars flanked either side of the dance floor with brushed nickel swirled bottom and shifting white lights underneath translucent onyx tops. The barstools donned metal saddles that gave you little security if you had one too many drinks. The back of the club opened up to one of the pool areas. Candles floated in the water and white lights strung in the trees, giving it an opposing atmosphere to the nightclub. The diverse group looked dressed to the nines. Mara started to relax and looked forward to the evening. She wouldn’t pretend; the real her would be out on the dance floor, wanting the steel curtain to fall away and let life happen.

They sidled up to the bar as they ordered their usual drinks: Mara had a Blue Dragon, Leigha chose a chocolate martini and Raquelle sipped a raspberry vodka tonic with lime. They say you can tell a lot by what a woman drinks. Their tastes were very distinct, a little sweet with a little bite. It was a good start to what they hope would be an interesting night.

“Hey, let’s go dance and turn up the heat.” Raquelle yelled over the loud music as they made their way through a sea of bodies that packed the dance floor.

Mara and Leigha followed Raquelle dutifully out to the center of the dance floor. They showed off their dance moves, drawing attention from people around them. Once again, Raquelle danced front and center. Her silver dress reflected the lights above, like a disco ball in motion. Mara twirled around so her dress flared out slightly at the bottom. The music soaked into her skin, consuming her, as she realized how much she missed dancing. Everything around her seemed to melt away as her body took over. She got lost in the feelings of freedom and happiness. The heavy erotic bass pumped through her body.

Mac walked into the club and casually made his way to the bar. His poison of choice was the smooth, fullness of a cool Guinness. He didn’t care for the ale warm, like some of his mates. He curiously scanned the crowd to find out what interested everyone in the middle of the floor. As he moved closer to the banister that surrounded the top edge of the dance floor, he peered down to at three goddesses dancing, to everyone’s delight. They drew a crowd of mostly men, hoping to score with one of them. Mac’s eyes zeroed in on only one, stunning in her blue dress that floated around the tops of her legs. Those legs would be the end of him. She had great moves, grinding around, making him hard for her.

She looks like a little sex kitten, attracting a lot of attention. I’m going to need to tame the beast tonight. God, how I want this woman.

Each time she raised her arms over her head, the hem hiked up to expose her firm thighs. Mac remained mesmerized by her grace and how well she coordinated her hips and legs. He took out his phone, snapping pictures of her as she moved around. His eyes followed her legs up to a tight bodice that enveloped full breasts, and his possessiveness took over. No one would be getting lucky with his lady that night. She might not know it yet, but she was most definitely his.

All mine.

He stepped back out of sight to observe the scene in front of him. Suddenly, one of the onlookers in the outer circle grabbed Mara and started dancing with her. She obliged, but Mac saw her trying to keep space between herself and her dance partner. Another guy came to dance with Raquelle. She seemed to know him, getting risqué with her bumps and grinds, obviously the partier of the group.

The song ended and her sisters headed off the dance floor. As Mara tried to leave, her companion pulled her back for another dance. Mac wanted to go and pull him off of her but he needed keep a protective eye on the situation and wait for it to play out from afar, but not too far. He wanted to give Mara her space, but still needed to keep tabs on this guy.

They played a slower, seductive song and Sleaze Boy made his move. It looked like a game of tug of war. Her body language screamed defensive and incredibly uncomfortable. The sleazebag clung to her as they made their way to the bar. He wanted to get in closer to see what game this guy was playing at. After years of training, spotting trouble before it began became second nature to him. He started slowly moving in her direction so he didn’t to draw attention to himself.

Mara’s dance partner introduced himself as Jack. As she turned to look at him, his dark curly hair and brown eyes made him fairly good looking, but his smile was insincere. He glared at her up and down, licking his lips as if he saw an ice-cream cone. He licked his lips a lot—whether out of nerves or because he was a lech, she couldn’t be sure. It made her immediately uncomfortable.

“So, where are you from, Mara?” She wanted to smack the smirk off his face.

“New York City. My sisters and I are here on vacation. Where are you from? I think I detect a Boston accent.” She wanted to keep one step ahead in this exchange.

“You would be right on the money. Are you having a good time in Cancun, honey?” He moved closer to her.

“Yeah. I’m having a good time. I love the weather and the people are really friendly.”

Too friendly from the looks of it.

He moved his hands around her waist, but she managed to spin away out of his grasp. He grabbed her by the hand and twirled her around a couple of times, hooking her into his body. As he turned her around to face him Mara put her head down, running into his chest. Her nerves got the better of her, realizing she wasn’t ready for any of this. Her nose assaulted by the smell of his sweat and cheap cologne. All of a sudden, his sweaty hand found her leg and started moving up the back of her thigh. Mara tried to push him away.

“Relax, baby. We’re just dancing and having a good time, right?” So sure his moves would persuade her to have sex with him.

Mara pushed against him again, but he held her tighter to him. No one would notice them among the distractions of gyrating body parts and wild lights. Mara’s breathing became shallow as her panic began to rise. She was familiar with the feelings before the world closed in and it made her sick. A trickle of sweat ran down the valley of her spine. She was overwhelmed with the urge to run off the dance floor before she went into a full-on anxiety attack.

“It’s hot out here. How about we go to the bar to have a drink?” her eyes wide with fear, hoping he would take the hint.

“Sounds good to me, baby. Lead the way.” Jack had an all-knowing smarmy look plastered on his smug face, as if he held some secret. Mara closed her eyes briefly relieved that there was some space between them.

Mara ordered her second Blue Dragon of the night to take the edge off, and Jack ordered a Crown and Coke. As the bartender put the drinks on the bar, Jack turned to Mara. “Hey, can you help me find my friend in this crowd? He’s blond and tall. He’s supposed to meet me here, but I haven’t seen him.” He watched her as she scanned the crowd.

Her internal compass pointed in Mac’s direction from across the bar. When she gazed over her shoulder, her eyes locked on him. She took him in from head to toe—black jeans that hugged his ass and thighs, with a white, button-down linen shirt. He rapidly ate the space between them as he made his way through the crowd toward her, leaving a wake of stares behind him. Her heart sped up instantly.

She wanted to grab him for herself, as she read the minds of the women he left behind. Her thoughts detoured back to Bimbos One and Two as her anger flared up again. She wanted him to see her with Jack and endure some of the discomfort she felt earlier.

Let the games begin.

Mara was confident that she was about to do a classic Raquelle move on how to make a guy jealous. She turned around and lifted her drink to her lips only to take a small sip before someone grabbed out of her hand.

“Don’t drink that. Your friend here put something in your drink,” Mac hissed as he stood glaring at Jack.

“Hey, I don’t know who you are, but you need to back the fuck off, pal.” Jack stood up, but his height brought him eye level with Mac’s chest.

“What did you put in her drink? A roofie?” Mac grabbed Jack by the shirt so he hung by his sleeves.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Roofie? Do I look like I need to drug girls to get them to go to bed with me?” As Jack rambled on about his male prowess, Mac hauled him across the bar and out to the pool area. He threw Jack down on the stone deck, raising his fist to punch him across the jaw.

“God, don’t hit the face. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Jack covered his face and cowered.

“What are you doing putting drugs in her drink?” Mac managed to say through gritted teeth, his blood at the boiling point. Mac raised his fist again as a threat hoping Jack might wet himself before he was done with him.

“Okay, okay! When I came in the club tonight, some guy approached me. He pointed out Mara and said he would pay me five hundred dollars to put something in her drink. Then he handed me a vial of white powder. After I put it in her drink, I was supposed to lead her out to the pool. I figured the guy was desperate to get laid.” Jack lay out on the ground, flinching under a very pissed-off Scotsman.

BOOK: Riveted (Art of Eros #1)
6.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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