If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.
-Wayne Dyer
On Saturday, Karma went to her parents’ house and watched the playoff game with her dad then stopped by the store on the way home to pick up milk. Leaving the dairy section, she decided that, while she was at it, she might as well check out the health and beauty department, where she could find such items as…oh…condoms.
It couldn’t hurt to have some on hand, just in case. Mark had made it clear that sex was part of the plan. It would be irresponsible not to be prepared.
At least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she slinked off and came at health and beauty the back way, stealth-like, as if that made a difference. For crying out loud, she was just going after condoms, not meth or bomb-making materials. Just condoms. Simple, innocent, latex—
She halted as she came out from behind a shelving unit full of hair care products.
Jolene and her boss, Jake, were huddled together. He had his arm around her, his hand on her butt. Her breasts were pressed seductively against his chest, and she was working the same look on Jake that she had on Mark that day she had asked him to drinks.
Karma quickly ducked back behind the shelf and peeked out in time to see Jo nip the side of Jake’s neck as he chuckled nervously and said something Karma couldn’t quite hear, but which sounded something like, “Jolene, we’re in public.”
“I don’t care,” Jo said. “I’d fuck you right here if I could. You’ve got me so horny. And it’s your fault for forgetting to bring them.” She pressed in close and nibbled his neck, grinning as if she was doing something wicked.
“Jo. Stop.”
She giggled, and Jake squirmed like she had a hold of his penis.
“At least wait till we get to the car,” he said.
“Oh, I’m going to ride you so hard tonight,” Jo said. “Just grab a box. Hurry up.”
Jake snatched a box of condoms off the shelf and followed Jo toward the registers like a puppy.
Well now. Wasn’t this interesting. Jo and Jake.
Karma didn’t want to get Jake in trouble, but this was a major ace in her pocket. Jake was married, and not just married, but married to the daughter of Solar’s president and CEO, who was also the founder’s son. Jake was in a position to lose everything if his affair with Jolene became public knowledge. Why would he risk it?
It was Jolene, that’s why. Her sway over men—except for Mark, of course—was almost mystical. She could make Tim Tebow give it up if she wanted to, and that man had serious convictions about his virtue.
Karma waited until Jo and Jake paid and scampered out the exit, off to do God knew what to each other, then proceeded into the aisle they had just vacated. There were so many condom options. Ribbed. Extra large. Colored. Plain. And about a hundred different brands. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Jo and Jake long enough to focus on selecting one.
How long had their affair been going on? The two certainly looked comfortable with each other. She filed through her mental database of all the times she had seen the two together in the office. The way they looked at each other. The way they hushed any time anyone was near. The closed-door meetings he had with her every week.
Holy crap! This had been going on for a while. How had she never noticed?
Because she was little Miss Naïve, that’s why. She simply didn’t notice such things. But surely someone had. Then again, maybe not. Or maybe they had and didn’t care or didn’t want to get involved.
Abandoning the condoms, Karma made her way to the checkout and paid for the milk, her mind swimming with the knowledge that had fallen into her lap. She hoped she would never have to use it, but it was a nice safety net.
Aside from her eye-opening Saturday night, Karma spent most of the weekend gobbling up the books Mark had given her. It was fascinating reading. She had learned more about her body and his than she had in a whole semester of sex ed, and with a little self-exploration with her finger, she had discovered her G-spot. She had even given herself her first G-spot orgasm. Mark was right. It was stronger than a clitoral orgasm, but she had a feeling a G-spot orgasm the Mark Strong way would be even better. A perverse thrill shot through her private places at the thought.
She had also started her Kegel exercises. In a way, her yoga training assisted with those, and she was beginning to understand what Mark had meant by how she would thank him for introducing her to them. As she did the exercises, she actually got turned on. Enough so that afterward, she was aroused enough to masturbate and explore her G-spot again. And just wow. After Kegels, that little dynamo was especially sensitive and packed an even bigger punch.
Monday night, after a day that saw Mark go from one meeting to the next, Karma sat on the couch, watching a weather update for an approaching storm, waiting for Mark to arrive. He had texted earlier that he was finishing up his last meeting and would be over as soon as he grabbed a quick bite and a shower. He had offered to bring her dinner, but she had already eaten.
A little before eight o’clock, he announced himself with a quiet knock.
“Hi, stranger,” he said, all charming smile and dazzling eyes. He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“Hi.” She blushed and looked away.
After a few days apart, some of her bravado from Friday’s text session had dissipated.
She closed the door behind him. The man sure could work a pair of jeans. And royal blue? He looked good in blue. And red. And black. And…hell, Mark could make 70s polyester plaid and a Fu Manchu look good.
“I brought dessert,” he said. He lifted a plain white bag.
“Dessert?” She followed him to the kitchen.
He motioned for her to have a seat at the bar. “No peeking.”
“You like surprises, don’t you?” She sat down on a bar stool and leaned on her elbows.
“Don’t you?” He glanced mischievously over his shoulder as he set the bag on the counter.
“Surprises are good. Yes.”
Keeping his back to her and shielding the bag, Mark grabbed a plate from the cabinet and began pulling out items and set them on the counter.
“They’re saying a bad storm is on the way.” She gazed at the way the muscles of his back and shoulders flexed and bunched under his shirt as he went about his business. What if she walked up behind him and slid her hands under his shirt so she could feel all that strength roll against her palms? Mmm, that was a nice thought.
He had such thick arms, too. In a suit or long-sleeved shirt, you didn’t really notice how big they were, but in a short-sleeved shirt like he was wearing tonight, you couldn’t miss them. Arms, hands, chests. That’s what turned Karma on, and Mark had each in spades.
“Yes, I saw that on the news while I was getting ready to come over,” he said. “Are you afraid of storms?” He scooped something out of one of the containers and placed it on the plate, but Karma couldn’t see anything but the wall of his impressive body.
“No. I love storms.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Me, too. We get some good ones in Chicago.” He turned back around.
“So, what have you got there?” She lifted off her seat and craned her neck to see around his arm. All she saw was something that looked like chocolate.
That was a good sign. Chocolate was good.
“Just wait,” he said. “No peeking.” He stepped to the side to block her prying eyes.
She huffed and flopped back down on the bar stool. “You know, making a woman wait for dessert is grounds for getting the cold shoulder.” As if she could ever give him the cold shoulder.
“We’ll see.” He sounded so self-assured.
She drummed her fingers impatiently as he worked far too slowly. “Are you plating for Gordon Ramsey over there?” she said.
He threw her a fake glare over his shoulder. “Hush, or you won’t get any chocolate chunk brownie.” He turned, and in his hands, he held a plate with the most incredible piece of culinary artistry ever created.
Her mouth gaped as he crossed the kitchen and set the masterpiece on the counter in front of her.
The brownie was a double stack of chocolaty goodness, one square settled on top of another at a diagonal. Large chunks of dark chocolate nestled within each perfectly baked morsel, and what looked like dollops of fudge oozed like heaven from the sides down to the plate. Golden caramel zigzagged over the top and down the edges, and what looked like vanilla cream was drizzled perpendicularly to the caramel and pooled around the base of the bottom brownie.
Mark returned to the bag, pulled out one last container with two cherries inside, and situated them just-so on the top of the mountain of decadence.
“Here’s to chocolate chunk brownies and all they entail,” he said with a smile, cutting off a gooey bite with a fork and holding it toward her.
“Oh, you’re good,” she said, leaning forward.
“I know.” He winked playfully as she took the forkful into her mouth. “How is it?” His eyes twinkled and one corner of his mouth curved upward as he watched her eat.
Flavors crashed together and exploded against her taste buds. This had to be the best damn brownie she had ever eaten. Ever! Angels should have been in her kitchen, singing and rejoicing, or weeping with overwhelming ecstasy, it was so good.
“Oh my God,” she mumbled through brownie. “Mmmm.” She closed her eyes and relished the taste and exquisite, melt-in-your-mouth texture. She moaned again, chewing slowly. Flavors burst one over the other, chocolate upon chocolate with a hint of vanilla and caramel, which coated her tongue like ribbons of buttery goodness.
“Good?” he said, crossing his arms and resting them on the counter.
She nodded, swallowed, and then took another bite. Mark grinned, straightened, and returned to the bag on the opposite counter, where he pulled out a small blue square, returned, and set it in front of her. It was a piece of Dove milk chocolate.
Covering her mouth, she laughed. “I see your point,” she said, looking at the brownie then the Dove square.
If a G-spot orgasm the Mark Strong way was indeed like this brownie, which should have had a spotlight on it, then she was definitely in store for a lot of moans instead of smiles. But she would take the smiles, too.
He leaned on the counter. “And what’s my point, Miss Mason?”
With a coy smile, she eyed her plate then looked back at him. “Let’s just say I hope you give me lots of brownies if they’re going to be this good.”
A devious smile lit his face as the mood shifted slightly toward sexual. “I can manage that.”
She picked up the fork and grabbed another bite. “My God, this is good.”
“Can I have a taste?”
“Can a man experience chocolate chunk brownies?” She smirked and licked caramel off her fork.
“No, but I can choose to withhold them.”
“Awe, you’re no fun.” Giving in, she nodded toward the silverware drawer. “Grab a fork there, teacher, and dig in and help me eat this incredible thing.”
As he joined her, she stared at the planes of his face, his Grecian nose, his strong chin with the small dimple in the center, the sharp slope of his jaw, and the way the muscles of his cheek and jaw bunched and flexed as he chewed. Seriously, the guy was gorgeous. And he was here, with her, giving her chocolate chunk brownies…or preparing to, however you wanted to look at it.
He swirled the last piece of brownie in the vanilla sauce on the plate, and her gaze dropped to his hand.
“I like your hands.” She set down her fork, reached across the counter, and caressed the backs of his fingers. His skin was warm. “They’re man’s hands.”
“Oh?” He sounded intrigued. “And what exactly are man’s hands?”
“The kind you have,” she said evasively. The atmosphere around them heightened with sensuality, and her pulse quickened.
Mark set his fork on the empty plate and came around the counter. “You can do better than that.” His voice purred from his throat, low and seductive.
“Haven’t we discussed this already,” she said as he spun her around on the bar stool and stepped between her knees.
“Only that you’re a woman who likes hands, but not what makes mine ‘man’s hands.’ I’m eager to hear your definition.” His sexy smirk sent a quiver of heat down her spine. Before she could utter another word, he gripped her hips and tugged her sharply toward him.
She gasped at his aggressiveness. “That. What you just did. That’s what makes them man’s hands.”
“Does it now?” He encroached more fully into her personal space and licked his lips. “Duly noted.” His palms flowed down the tops of her thighs. “But I’m glad you like my hands.”
Her breath hitched. “Why’s that?” He was so close she could feel his body heat.
“Because my hands like touching you.” For emphasis, his palms slid back up the outside of her thighs to her hips, where he took hold of her again. He leaned in. “By the way, you look nice tonight,” he whispered, drawing his tongue down to her bare shoulder. He let go of her hip and brushed back her hair.
She was wearing a demure, baby-doll halter that fit more securely around the bodice but draped like the skirt of a flowing gown below her breasts. She almost hadn’t put it on because of how much skin it showed, but now she was glad she had. “Thank you.”
His lips brushed over her skin. “How’s your reading coming along?” He sounded distracted.
Breathless, Karma’s pulse quickened. “Good.”
“Learning anything about yourself?” He softly kissed the side of her neck.
She nodded, and her eyelids drifted shut. “Mm-hm.”
“And your Kegels? You’ve been doing them?” His lips eased up the side of her neck to her ear.
“Mm-hm.” She tried not to melt.
“And your training?” His voice was a hot whisper.
It took her a moment to understand he was referring to the glass dildos. “You haven’t been here to help me,” she whispered back, sounding like she’d just dove into a pool of chilled water from the way her breath hitched.
“I’m here now.”
Yes, he was. Very much so.
He dotted tiny kisses back down her neck and along her jaw, and then paused only a second before taking her bottom lip between both of his.
That falling sensation she was beginning to associate with Mark’s kisses swirled inside her stomach the moment their mouths touched, and when his tongue flicked along the seam of her lips in a tender invasion, the weightless sensation flared again like hummingbird wings in flight.
He tasted like chocolate and vanilla, and his lips were smooth and warm. Strong. Demanding, but in a subtle way that hinted at forced restraint.
Not long ago, Karma would have tensed in his arms. Her inexperienced, self-conscious side would have forced her to anxiously withdraw, but those days were quickly fading into the past. Mark was gently leading her down a new path, guiding her smoothly into a new existence. One where she relaxed more, enjoyed the experience of being in a man’s arms, and felt more comfortable seeking what gave her pleasure.
When had she ever felt beautiful and desirable before Mark came along? Never. Gratitude blossomed for these gifts he was giving her, and for once, she let herself go. She gave in to the ravenous yearning that begged her to explore what he offered. Surging against him, her arms drove around his shoulders, and her legs locked at the ankles around his hips.
In unison, they both moaned, and his mouth crashed hard and deep against hers, bending her backward against the force of his arousal. The backs of her shoulders dug into the counter behind her, and his grip tightened as he tugged her lower body forward on the stool until the juncture between her legs met the hardness beneath the zipper of his jeans. Lust bulleted down her thighs and up her spine, making her groan and grind herself against him. A guttural rumble stirred from his throat at the increased contact, and he thrust himself against her as his teeth latched onto her bottom lip.
They’d gone from playful teasing to full-on fuck-me mode in less than five seconds. Their chemistry with one another was off the charts and undeniable…breathtaking and mind-blowing.
Gasping into his mouth, Karma shoved her fingers into his thick hair and gripped a handful as she would the mane of a stallion if she were riding bareback. If she didn’t hold on tight, she would tumble off, and she didn’t want to fall. She wanted the ride to keep going. He growled as she reinforced her grip with both hands and let her tongue dance with his. She was lost to unbridled passion, consumed by desire.
Then she was being lifted off the stool. And not just lifted, but hoisted like a maiden being rescued from a dragon’s lair into her savior’s arms. Without breaking the urgent kisses shattering her mental barriers, Mark carried her through the living room, down the hall, and to the bedroom. Somewhere in her conscious mind, she knew where they were going…knew the intimacy her bedroom implied…but she couldn’t stop him. The last thing she wanted was to put an end to the incredible, lip-searing way his mouth took hers over and over…the way his tongue stroked hers as if he couldn’t get far enough inside her. He kicked the bedroom door open, hustled her inside, and crashed over her as they fell onto the bed.
Mark was like ocean surf quickly building in strength and power, rolling against her, consuming her, relentlessly spiraling her up, up, and still further until she was riding on the crest of his wave.
She had been starving, famished for pleasure. Now Mark was giving it to her.
The voice in the back of her mind told her she needed to stop, but her body was too far gone to listen, too caught up in its gluttonous binge.
Mark’s mouth, his lips, his tongue…they ravished her, stole her breath, further weakened whatever thread of resolve she had left. It was like he was just as hungry as she was. As if he, too, was overwhelmed with the need to take all he could before it was too late. They were soaring out of control, and he didn’t seem capable of stopping any more than she was.
Then one of his hands pushed under her blouse, speeding toward her breast.
That’s when Karma shot back to reality the same way she had in his hotel room the night they met.
“No!” She jumped and slammed her hand down on his before she could stop herself.
Mark jerked away and yanked his hand out from under her shirt, eyes wide and confused, as if he, too, had just come back to his senses.
The sexually intoxicating mood vaporized. Gone. Destroyed again by Karma’s childhood memories.
“I’m sorry.” Karma immediately felt the need to apologize. “I just—”
“Sshh.” He cupped her face and shook his head. He appeared dazed. His brow crinkled. “I shouldn’t have…” He trailed off as if he wasn’t sure what he shouldn’t have done.
They were both breathing hard, strained to their physical limits.
Old memories rushed back from Karma’s childhood. This wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t him, it was her. And how cliché was that? It’s not you, it’s me. Blech! She didn’t want to say something so pathetic at a moment like this.
“Mark—”
“No. I’m sorry.” He rolled onto his back. He seemed disoriented and stared up at the ceiling.
Awkward silence filled the open space, murdering the intense chemistry that only moments ago had connected them. Would she ever rid herself of the damage of her childhood?
“Mark…” Karma sighed, hating the cool air that replaced the warmth of his body. “You don’t understand.” She closed her eyes, said a silent prayer for courage, and sighed as she glanced at him again. “Look, I need to tell you something. Something about my past. Something important.” She needed to be honest with him. Didn’t he deserve that much? Didn’t she? Perhaps it was time to face the past once and for all. “Maybe if I explain, you’ll understand.” And maybe if she explained, she could finally banish the shame. She rolled onto her side, facing him.
His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell heavily.
After this, there wouldn’t be any secrets left. Mark would know more about her than anyone else, except for maybe Lisa and Daniel.
As Mark opened his eyes and rolled his head to look at her, she felt an odd sense of relief. She hadn’t even begun but already felt better. Just the thought of telling him the painful truth was enough to alleviate the strain that had been on her nerves since she’d met him.
Mark’s mind was still in all kinds of improper places. He couldn’t believe he had almost made love to her. Here. Right now. Tonight. Before she was even ready. But he had careened out of control once Karma wrapped her legs around him and kissed him in earnest. She had felt so good, and her mouth felt so right on his.
He had never wanted to make love to a woman as badly as he had wanted to make love to Karma. Even now, his body throbbed to join with hers. God, what was wrong with him? He needed to focus, calm down, listen to what Karma had to say. From the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears and her fingers worried over themselves, whatever was on her mind was important.
Taking a deep breath to rinse the lusty cobwebs from his thoughts, he rolled onto his side to face her. “I’m listening.” He still felt awful for pushing her the way he had. He had promised to take care of her, and yet he had rushed her like a bull. What had he been thinking?
Outside, distant lightning flashed, and a low rumble of thunder announced the coming storm. Inside, Karma seemed to have a storm of her own brewing, her eyes filling with shadows.
“When I was a kid, I was a bit of a tomboy,” she said. “I was kind of geeky and scrawny with long hair and glasses.” She rolled her eyes. “A real looker, you know.” A forced smile that showed she was trying to be funny dashed across her face then disappeared. “My dad was still working his way up the corporate ladder, and we weren’t the richest family in town. We did well, but in Clover?” She blew out a derisive puff of air. “Unless you’re a one-percenter here, you’re bait. And for a kid in school, it’s even worse.” She grew quiet as evidence of hard memories shadowed her face.
“What happened?” Memories of his own harsh childhood bubbled into his mind. He had been teased ruthlessly for dancing. Surely, Karma hadn’t been made fun of like that. The idea that she had endured something so ugly hurt his heart. He reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face.
Her gaze flicked to his hand, and she smiled. “I was a late bloomer,” she said. “Really late.”
“What do you mean?” Was she talking physically or something else?
She hid her face behind her hand. “This is so embarrassing…”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll understand.”
“No,” she said immediately, drawing her hand away from her face. “I want to tell you. I need to get this out once and for all. It’s just hard.”
He brushed his fingers over her cheek as more thunder, closer this time, rumbled outside. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
She had the loveliest face. Smooth skin. Cute, slightly upturned nose that sort of reminded him of a rabbit’s. And her pretty lips were swollen and pouty after their bruising make-out session.
After a moment, she breathed in and forced herself to continue. “So, okay…I was a late bloomer. When most of the other girls in school started to develop breasts in sixth or seventh grade, I was still flat as a pancake. And the fact that I wasn’t part of the affluent, popular crowd singled me out even more. Add to that my younger brother loved torturing me, and you might see where this is going.”
Yes, he was beginning to get some idea, and a mix of despair, sympathy, and anger roiled in his veins.
“Well,” Karma said, continuing, “things didn’t get better as I got into high school. The other girls kept developing, and I kept not developing.” She sighed. “It wasn’t until late my freshman year that anything began to grow on me at all…other than my stupid hair, of course. By then, the names I was called had already become engrained with my classmates, fueled, of course, by my brother and Jolene.” She slouched. “Yes, Jo was part of the crowd who made fun of me, along with the girl my brother ended up marrying, Estelle. But they weren’t the only ones. I was teased everywhere. In the girls’ locker room. Between classes. After school. On the bus. It was awful. This went on for years.”
Mark shifted closer and rested his hand on her waist. It wasn’t much, but it was a small gesture of how he wished he could protect her. Everything he learned about Karma, including this, made his picture of her that much clearer. He had suspected something tragic had occurred in her past, but he hadn’t imagined anything like this. No wonder she had reacted the way she did when he shoved his hand up her blouse. And no wonder she had fled his room the night of the benefit. Hadn’t she frozen up then the same way she had tonight…right after he touched her breast? He would have to be more careful from now on. Slow down and be more patient.
“I was called Mosquito Bite and Pancake…and other more offensive names.” Her voice grew quiet. “People told me that I was so flat that even the walls got jealous. When I was in eighth grade, someone taped a training bra to the outside of my locker. I was mortified when I got to school and saw it. Everyone laughed as I tried to take it down, but they had used a lot of tape. The hall was full of kids laughing and pointing, and I was desperately trying to rip off all the tape. Another time it was a jock strap and a note that said, ‘Maybe you’re better equipped to wear one of these instead of a bra.’ After that, kids teased me that I was really a boy dressed like a girl.” Tears welled in her eyes, and Mark could hear in her choked voice that she was forcing herself not to cry. It took every ounce of restraint not to pull her against him and hold her, but he sensed she needed to get this out.
“The humiliation was endless.” She sniffled. “Another time in eighth grade, I liked this boy named Dave. Dave Warren. We shared a lunch period. And I always carried my journal with me. I was always writing in it. Between classes, during class, on the bus. I wrote about Dave a lot.”
Her thoughts seemed to be tumbling out in random order.
“I was always too shy to talk to Dave, even though his lunch table was next to mine and he sat behind me in history class.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “So, there I was, in the cafeteria. I set my books on my table, went up to get my lunch, and when I came back, my journal was gone.”
Mark tensed. This story couldn’t have a happy ending and he wished he could go back in time and right the wrong that had been done to her that day.
“I freaked,” she said. “I looked everywhere. Then I heard the laughter.” She cringed and briefly covered her face. “I turned around, and there was my brother, Jo, and Estelle, reading my journal. My diary. All my private thoughts, all the poems I’d written…all of it about Dave.” She visibly sagged. “Dave was right there. Right beside them. And Johnny began reading out loud. ‘Dave is so cute. I wish he would ask me out. Does he even know I exist?’ God, it was humiliating. Dave looked at me like I was a hideous monster, and Johnny kept taunting me. ‘Karma’s got a cru-ush, Karma’s got a cru-ush. Mosquito Bite’s in loooooove.’ It was awful. I can still hear his stupid voice teasing me.” She shook her head against her palms. “Everyone laughed…the whole cafeteria. I just wanted to crawl into a cave. I gathered my books, pried my journal from Johnny’s hands, and ran out of the cafeteria as Johnny and his friends yelled after me, calling me all those horrible names and laughing.”
She began to cry, and that did it. Unable to hold back any longer, Mark wrapped her in his arms and pulled her against him. “It’s okay. Ssshhh.” He rocked her.
She buried her face against his chest and let out a tight, quiet sob.
For a couple of minutes, he simply held her as rain began to fall outside and the lightning and thunder grew closer. He knew firsthand what Karma had experienced, because he had, too.
“The worst part,” she said, “is that Jolene ended up getting with Dave after that. They were a couple for the rest of the school year.” She sniffled. “Jo’s been adding insult to injury all my life.”
He stroked her hair as she continued to cry.
A few minutes later, she pulled away and took a deep breath. “Anyway, that’s why I reacted the way I did when you…you know…touched me. I’ve just never quite gotten over the stigma.” She sighed and shrugged almost apologetically.
“I think I figured that out.” He wiped his thumb over her tear-moistened cheek.
With a sad smile, she pointed her finger at him and put on a brave face. “That’s what I like about you, Mark. You’re quick.” She was obviously trying to lighten the mood.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “If I was really that quick, I would have known sooner not to do what I did.”
She shook her head. “No, no. I was into it. God, I mean, no one’s ever…” She trailed off and ducked her head. When she spoke again, her voice was low, whispery. “No one’s ever kissed me or touched me the way you do.”
Mark’s heart beat a little harder for her. Karma was so damned innocent, and she’d had such a traumatic childhood. He never would have imagined her past had been so bad. “I like it,” he said quietly, brushing his fingers through her hair. “I like kissing you.” What an understatement. He fucking loved kissing her. So much so that his normally patient libido had risen like a cobra ready to strike.
“Me, too.” She tipped the crown of her head against his chest, and her delicate fingers curled against his stomach.
The bashful yet imploring gesture pulled at Mark’s soul, and he smiled as he kissed the top of her head. “You know,” he said, “those kids were wrong about you, Karma. If they could see you now…see the beautiful woman you’ve become…you could make them all eat their words.”
Her body burrowed into his. “I guess in some ways I still see myself the way they saw me back then. You know, ugly and gangly. Flat.”
Mark frowned at her confession. Was she saying that she was ashamed of her body? That she thought her breasts weren’t big enough? “Karma, you’re a beautiful woman. All of you.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he pulled away. “Look at me.”
Trepidation and uncertainty shone from her eyes as she raised her face to his. He had to show her how perfect she was. How beautiful. Because clearly, remnants from the past still haunted her self-image. She truly didn’t realize how perfect she was.
“Come here.” He got up and bobbed his head toward the full-length mirror hanging on the wall by the bathroom. “I want you to see something.” He held out his hand.
* * *
Karma’s gaze darted to the mirror. “Mark…”
He waved his fingers and nodded toward the mirror. “Come on. You need to see this.”
Dreading what was about to happen, Karma gingerly sat up, swung her legs around, and took his hand. She followed him across the room as another flash of lightning lit the shadows.
Stopping in front of the mirror, Mark turned on the bathroom light then stepped behind her. “What do you see?” He nodded toward her reflection in the mirror.
What she saw was a scared little girl cowering inside a woman’s body. “Me,” she said noncommittally. She knew what he was after, but she couldn’t say it.
“But what do you see?” He pulled back her hair.
“I don’t know.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. She didn’t want to look at herself right now.
“Do you want to know what I see?” He placed his hands on the sides of her face and lifted so she was looking in the mirror again. Her eyes met his in the reflection. “Look at yourself,” he said. She forced herself to do as he asked. “Here’s what I see when I look at you.” He wrapped one arm around her waist and caressed his other hand over her cheek. “I see perfect, clear skin. Smooth, youthful, and healthy. I know women who would kill to have your skin.”
She’d never noticed that before, but looking closely at her face, he was right. Her skin was pretty damn flawless.
“And your eyes,” he said. “They’re big and bright and the most extraordinary shade of green. I’ve never seen eyes quite that color, and, to be honest, they’re mesmerizing.”
Once again, she had never paid attention to her eyes before, but now she stared at them as if seeing them for the first time.
Mark continued ticking down her features. Her heart-shaped lips, her flat stomach, her supple hips, her delicate hands, even her button nose and her “sexy” ears, which he nibbled on as he whispered how attractive they were. Finally, he drew back and pulled her blouse tight from behind so that the fabric stretched over her breasts.
She sucked in her breath, suddenly self-conscious.
“And your breasts, Karma,” he said softly, leaning down so that his chin almost rested on her shoulder. “Are you worried they’re too small?”
Licking her lips nervously, she gave a tight, shaky nod. Couldn’t he loosen his hold on her shirt?
“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He drew even closer and whispered, “I think they’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Perfect? He thought those slight mounds under her shirt were perfect?
“That’s right, Karma. They’re perfect. A nice handful, a bit perky. Did you know that when you walk just so that they actually bounce a little?”
She shook her head, unable to speak. Did she actually have ample enough breasts that they bounced? Really?
“Well, they do. And it drives me wild.” He slowly released her shirt. “Do you trust me?”
Seeing herself through fresh eyes, in a way she never had before, she swallowed, briefly pressed her lips together, then whispered, “Yes.”
His hands slid around to her stomach, on the outside of her blouse, and she watched the reflection as they slowly crept upward as he kissed the side of her neck. With racing heart and quickened breath, she blinked drowsily as his thumbs pressed against the underside of her breasts. Pausing, he seemed to be gauging whether or not she was going to let him continue. When she didn’t resist, he drew his palms up and over her breasts.
“They’re supple and sexy,” he whispered in her ear. “The perfect handful. And anything more than a handful is a waste, if you ask me.”
She had never thought of her breasts as sexy or supple. Least of all perfect.
He squeezed gently, and her nipples hardened. “Still trust me?” he said quietly.
Thunder rolled outside.
He had just made her see herself with new eyes. Hadn’t he proven himself over and over by now. “Yes.” She had never trusted anyone more.
Keeping his left hand where it was, Mark dipped his right hand under the hem of her blouse. She knew what was coming, but unlike before, she was ready. His fingers brushed like feathers up the side of her stomach, his hand pushing the shirt away. The sultry caress left a tingling trail up her abdomen. In the mirror, the outline of his fingers approached her breast. Then his hand cupped her, and the warmth of his palm pressed against her. And then his left hand joined the right, and both hands held her breasts, skin to skin, heat to heat.
“Put your hands on mine,” he said, pressing more firmly against her from behind. She could feel his erection against her bottom, and a torrid fantasy of being bent forward and forced to watch him take her in the mirror broke unbidden inside her thoughts.
She did as he said and covered his hands with hers. If she thought kissing him had been exciting, watching in the mirror as his hands shifted under her blouse, and feeling his fingers curl around her flesh, was damn near the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.
“Now do you understand?” he said against her ear. His deep, gravelly whisper reached down and cupped her between the legs.
Panting, she nodded and rested the back of her head against his shoulder. Between Mark’s erection on her backside and his hands on her breasts, she was in sensory overload.
“Better?” he said.
She nodded. This was much better. Much, much better. “Yes.”
“Every day,” he said, “I want you to look in this mirror and imagine me behind you. I want you to touch your breasts like I am…” He squeezed, softly raked his blunt nails in as he made loose fists, and then circled them around as he spread his fingers once more. “I want you to touch yourself and realize how beautiful you are…how perfect your breasts are…how sexy you are.”
Blind to everything but his palms massaging under her shirt, she nodded, eyelids drooping. Right about now, she would do anything he asked. She was putty in his hands.
“Will you do that? Every day?”
Again, she nodded. “Yes.” She would if only to relive this moment again and again in her mind.
Just then, a bolt of lightning struck right outside her building. Under the Mark Strong onslaught, Karma hadn’t even realized how close the storm had come, but as her eyes darted to the window, she could see how violent the wind was. Trees swayed as lightning flashed again. The power blinked then cut off and blinked back on. The instant explosion of thunder was so powerful it shook the walls. Karma yelped.
“Holy shit!” Mark jerked behind her, his hands clamping down on her breasts, and then he burst into nervous laughter as he let go and pulled his arms from under her shirt.
She looked over her shoulder, laughing with him. “Scared?”
“Goddamn, that was loud.” He continued to laugh as he looked toward the window then scrubbed his hands up and down his face.
The thunder had jarred them both out of their erotic interlude, which was probably a good thing. If they’d kept on the way they were, they would have ended up back in bed, and while the idea of making love with Mark sent a shard of yes-please through her blood, she kind of liked the slow seduction happening between them. Besides, if he was as big as he alluded, she really did need to prepare. It had been far too long since she’d been with a man.
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” she said, glancing back toward the mirror.
“Oh you will, will you?” He met her gaze in the reflection and smiled.
“Sure.” She grew more serious. “Especially since you’ve taken such good care of me.”
He blinked, bent forward, and kissed her shoulder. “My pleasure.”
She smiled. “Mine, too, because, once again, that was pretty, uh…pretty nice…what we just did.” She paused and looked at her reflection. Mark had opened her eyes. She cocked her head to the side as she studied herself in the light from the bathroom. She no longer saw the little girl. She saw the woman. “Thank you.”
He hugged her from behind. “You’re welcome.” He said it as if he knew exactly why she was thanking him.
But that was Mark. He always seemed to know what she was thinking and almost knew her better than she knew herself. And maybe, in some ways, he did.