His Four Poster Bed (Bedroom Secrets Series Book 2) (13 page)

I awoke the next morning; the memory of the night before felt like a weight inside my chest. I was grateful for the routine of the hospital, I didn’t even mind hitting traffic on my morning commute. It felt normal and reminded me of my days before Marco when life made more sense to me.

The dark gray skies of the morning felt ominous. I found myself glancing in the rear view mirror afraid of what I might find. I passed a beige Taurus with tinted windows idling in the garage and I wondered who was sitting behind the wheel.

I parked my car in the staff lot and took a deep breath. I felt as though I was losing my mind.

“You all right?” Dr. Mike stood beside my car with a concerned expression on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t sleep well,” I said, getting out of the car. For once I was grateful for his company. “Should we walk in together?”

“Sure.” He looked a little surprised but pleased. At least that was how I read the expression behind his wire rimmed glasses. “You sure you’re okay?” He asked, as we walked through the automatic doors into the orca lobby.

“Sure, I’m great. Just some personal stuff.”

“Odessa,” Dr. Mike grabbed my hand as I turned to go. “If you need anything. If I can help let me know. We were friends before we were anything else and I miss that. I really do.”

“Thanks Mike, I appreciate that,” I said, squeezing his hand back. And I meant it. Sleeping with Dr. Mike had been a mistake. But it had been my mistake. It didn’t mean he was a bad person, if anything I was the one who led him on. I should have left the moment I knew we were not on the same page instead of waiting six months. “Hey I’m sorry about how things ended between us,” I said, shocked that I was bringing up something so personal but it suddenly felt foolish of me to leave things unspoken with the people I cared about.

He smiled. “Thanks Odessa, me too.” And we stood like that looking at each other for a moment and I felt something heal between us. As I walked the halls that day I thought about how odd it was that as Marco and I fell apart Dr. Mike and I may have finally found our way back to each other as friends.

Why wasn’t Marco calling me? All day I jumped at the sound of footsteps or the buzz of my phone. I kept expecting to turn and see him standing there with flowers. I wanted to read a message from him, something apologetic that would make me forget all of my confusion and fear.

But instead there was silence.

I finally broke down and sent a text during lunch time. I sat in the staff room my untouched bento box on the table in front of me. I wasn’t hungry, I wasn’t thirsty, I felt nervous and utterly dependent, both emotions that threatened my sanity.

We need to talk. Tonight.

I felt sick to my stomach as I waited for him to respond seconds felt like minutes as I stared at that damn phone. I had about given up when my phone buzzed.

Thank God.

Relief washed over me but it was short lived.

Not good tonight. I’ll contact you.

Not good? My pulse skyrocketed and my cheeks burned.

Unacceptable. I need answers. Now.

Silence.

Or this relationship is over.

I sent the final text before I had time to reel it back in, to second guess myself, to acknowledge the terror in my heart that Marco and I were headed towards some awful parting.

Odessa I need time.

I fired off a response.

Total truth. You promised me.

I typed those two words and sat completely still. I felt as though I were free falling off a cliff. Marco and I were breaking up. I was going to push him so hard that I’d give him no choice. Veronica had told me to be patient, which was exactly what I wasn’t doing.

My phone vibrated with his answer. I closed my eyes afraid to read his response but I needed to know, I had to know. Were we over?

I’ll come to you. Tonight. Don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.

Don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.

I stared at his words knowing that if I was looking for my easy out this was it. I didn’t need to manufacture a break up, I could simply write back that this was too much, too weird. I could tap out and I’d never have to see Marco Amador again.

My whole body tensed. I needed his touch. I craved his hands on my body; I’d never felt so satisfied and so sure of a lover.

Who was I kidding, I no longer had a choice. My body and soul had chosen Marco Amador the moment we kissed on New Year’s Eve.

I took a deep breath and responded.

Tonight.

And one more thought.

I won’t give up.

Holy shit. I really was all in.

It was past 10:00 p.m. and I still wore my scrubs when Marco rang the buzzer at my apartment.

“Can I come up?” He asked, his voice tired and worried.

My body ached for him. I wanted to take him in my arms, pull him into my bed and make him forget his worries. I wanted to touch his lips and feel his hands against my skin. I wanted him to make me moan, to erase my fears and go back to the way we were just a few days before.

I said nothing and hit the button, afraid of what my voice would reveal.

I needed to be strong. The man owed me answers and I couldn’t allow myself to back down without getting the truth.

I opened the door.

Marco reached for me, his hands around my waist so quickly my mind didn’t have time to tell my body not to respond. He pressed his lips against mine without a single word. There was only his kiss, his tongue pressing into my mouth.

My legs wrapped around his waist, I held on and kissed him back unable to resist. With a single turn he pushed me up against the wall as I buried my face in his neck kissing his skin. He lowered me to the floor, fumbling with the waistband of my scrubs, his hand finding my panties. He parted my lips and slid inside my wet pussy. He moaned as he felt my wetness, his fingers pushing inside me, his lips against mine.

I cried out in pleasure as I tore at the front of his button down shirt exposing his smooth chest.

He slid his fingers out of me and lifted off my shirt exposing the thin white tank I wore over my black bra. Tugging at his belt, I undid his pants pulling them down over his hips exposing his enormous erection.

“Condom,” he gasped, gesturing for his pants which were bunched around his ankle.

I reached down and grabbed a package from his back pocket. I felt as though I couldn’t unwrap it fast enough.

All my rules, all my boundaries crumbled in the arms of this man. The moment he touched me my body opened up for him with an ache and a need that I found impossible to resist.

“Take me,” I whispered, sheathing him quickly. He hooked his arm under one of my legs and lifted me as his cock slid inside me.

I gasped as he pinned me up against the wall.

He grabbed my other leg and I gripped him with my arms raising myself up and down, I rode him, my clit rubbing against him bringing me closer and closer to coming.

His mouth against mine, he kissed me hungrily as he fucked me faster and faster, then harder against the wall.

My thighs clenched and body tensed. He drove into me harder and harder, the pressure so strong I cried out as the orgasm rippled through my body.

Marco kept pounding into me as I came around him, the waves of pleasure continued until I felt him pulse deep inside me. His head dropped onto my shoulder.

“I was so afraid I’d lost you,” he whispered, leaning his head against my shoulder. “So afraid.”

He lifted me slowly, and my body throbbed as he placed me on my feet.

Then he looked at me, running his fingers along my jawline, his deep brown eyes locked on mine. “I’m so sorry about yesterday,” he said. He looked sad, sad and tired.

“I need answers,” I said, pulling his face towards mine so our foreheads touched. “If we are going to be together I need to know everything. No secrets. You have no idea how hard this is for me. I wanted to run.” I almost cried but managed to take a deep breath and keep the tears at bay.

“I thought I could make it go away,” he said, softly. “I wanted to protect you from all this, protect us and I failed.”

I felt a coldness in my belly. What could Marco tell me that was so awful? I spent so much time focusing on my own commitment issues it never occurred to me that he may hold a secret so horrible that it would drive us apart.

“You have to tell me,” I said. “Secrets will destroy us.”

I took his hand and led him across the hardwood to my queen sized bed in the corner of my studio. Covered by a white duvet and enormous pillows. I scooted across the bed and pulled him next to me so we were laying side by side. We were both half-dressed and I was tempted to roll him over on his back and ride him again. I could tell from the way he ran his hands up and down my body that he felt the same way but sex would just delay the inevitable. We needed to talk this out.

“Once I tell you this truth, Odessa. You will be involved,” he closed his eyes and exhaled.

“I’m already involved,” I said, leaning over and kissing his ear. “Talk.”

Marco moved his hand off my body and sighed. He sat up in the bed a little higher. I scooted beside him and leaned my head on his shoulder. The shades open, we could see outside into the night sky. It wasn’t the canvas of stars that we shared from his four poster bed at the top of the world, but it was a glimpse of the same universe. I felt as though we belonged in that starlight, we belonged in the cool blue light that bathed our bodies as we intertwined and made love again and again.

“My father is not a good man, Odessa,” he said.

I kept my focus on the night sky and ran my fingers gently up and down his chest as he spoke.

“It has taken me a long time to understand the nature of my family’s business, of my father’s business,” he said pausing.

“My mother tried to warn me before she died. She told me that I would need to be strong, to be true to myself. I have failed her so many times.”

“You were just a boy when she died,” I said. “Weren’t you only sixteen? How were you expected . . .”

“I knew then that something was wrong in our household. I sensed it, the tension between my parents. The more successful my father became, the worse things grew between them.” he said. “My mother drowned on a family boating trip in Cabo San Lucas. She fell off the boat while we were anchored near the harbor. It was the middle of the night, I didn’t even know she was missing until the next day.”

“You were so young,” I whispered, my heart aching for his grief as a boy and as a grown man.

“I learned last year that in the days before my mother’s accident she planned to leave my father. She planned to take me away and start a new life but she never got the chance.”

“How did you find out?”

“Veronica,” he said. “Her mother had secured us new passports and an apartment in Brooklyn. We never made it.”

I had so many questions but I stayed silent. My hand running up and down Marco’s chest tracing the lines of the tattoo on his arm as I let him speak; I let him share his truth with me.

“My mother wanted to leave my father because she discovered that our family fortune was tied to the Mexican drug cartel.”

My hand froze.

“My father’s import and export business is profitable but he distributes more than just high end furniture around the globe. He distributes product for the Mexican mafia.”

“Your mother found out.” I was frozen, unable to move.

“My father told me the truth about the business last year, I think he thought I would be pleased to be a part of the family empire, grateful even. I always suspected that the numbers didn’t add up. Amador Shipping has been wildly successful but we were making too much money for the industry. A recession hit the country but it did not impact our books. We continued to make money. For years I knew something was wrong, but I was afraid to dig deeper. I was afraid to pull back the curtain and face the monster that is my father. But I’m not afraid anymore,” he said. “I am done behaving like a frightened child.

“I will do whatever it takes to destroy his business. My mother wanted no part of it and it’s taken me years to see the path. The trouble is that there is so much corruption in Mexico, any time the government gets close to connecting my father with the Cartel someone dies or stops talking. Amador Shipping has numerous legitimate sources of income that makes it hard to know which contract is real and which is a shell contract for drug transport.