The Everlasting Chapel (11 page)

Then again, Michael is working with his
ex-fiancé, someone he had a much deeper relationship with than
Spencer and I do. I mean, I’ve only slept with Spencer once, and we
were both in complete agreement that it was nothing more than a
friends-with-benefits type relationship.

Oh, dear, here it comes again. The
complication. Shit, what do I do? I’ll just have to be completely
open with Michael about everything, and if he doesn’t like it, so
be it. I don’t like how he’s working with his ex, but I doubt he’ll
pull the deal if I asked him to.

Besides, we’ve only just started dating.

I call Spencer back and tell him I had a
great day with my father and Vivian. He tells me he needed to do
emergency surgery on a very prominent person in Portland, although
he isn’t allowed to tell me exactly who it was. I inform him that
while driving over to my house, the Audi had a flat, but that I
called Michael up and he had the vehicle towed to my house.

I listen very carefully to hear if there’s
any disappointment in his voice, but the news about Michael doesn’t
seem to bother him at all. Thank goodness. All I need is for
Spencer to want more than just sex, and for me to start feeling
guilty that I led him on.

We agree to have lunch tomorrow and that
I’ll drive his Audi to work so he can have it afterward. Curious to
know what Spencer thinks, I tell him I’m considering dating Michael
again. Spencer tells me to be careful and that he doesn’t want to
see his new buddy get hurt. If all else fails, you know where to
come to feel better, he says.

I grin, remembering that we did indeed have
a great time.

The rest of the day I hang out with my
father, help Vivian with some chores, and think about what terms I
should present to Michael. However, when I sit down to write them
down, I don’t come up with a single idea. I call Anne.

“Let me see if I understand this correctly,”
she says. “You’re making a list with terms that will outline the
parameters and rules of your relationship?”

“Kind of.”

“First of all, why do there have to be
terms? If you have to make all these rules, doesn’t it only mean
you don’t trust each other?” she asks.

I groan inwardly. “Well, we’re working on
the trust.”

‘Then why do you want to be with him if you
don’t trust him?”

Good point.

“You guys…you’re going to kill each other,
you know that?” she says.

“I know. But I really think he’s changed,” I
say.

“How?”

“I told him that I slept with Spencer,
and—”

She gasps. “You slept with the doctor? When
did this happen?”

Oh, yeah. I didn’t tell her about that yet.
“Last night,” I admit.

“Holy shit, Scarlett. How was it?”

“Great, but…it was just once, and we both
agree we’re strictly friends,” I say.

“So now you’re moving on with Michael, and
he already knows about Spencer?”

“Yes,” I squeak. Saying it makes me feel
even more like a slut.

“Your life is like a soap opera on steroids,
girl.”

I laugh. “Yep, that pretty much sums it
up.”

“So Michael didn’t…care that someone else
fucked you last night?” she asks.

“Well, he said he didn’t, but I could tell
he did.”

She’s quiet for a long time, and then she
asks, “Do you still love Michael?”

Why did she have to ask me that question?
And does it even matter? Just because I love him doesn’t mean we
should be together, does it? “Yes,” I say.

“Then screw all the rules and requirements
and shit. It seems he wants to try for real this time, and if you
hold onto past hurts and regrets, you’ll never make it. You have to
give it everything.”

It sounds nice but also frightening.

“Will you be able to keep the past
relationship with him separate from this new one?” she asks.

I think for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“Well, once you find out that answer, then
you’ll know what to do,” she says. “Listen, I have to go to work,
but call me tomorrow. I really want to find out what happens. And
Scarlett?”

“Yes?”

“Honestly, hun, I think you should go for
it.”

“Thanks,” I say as goosebumps rise on my
skin.

For several more hours I wrack my brain,
trying to come up with acceptable terms for our relationship. I
agree with Anne that I shouldn’t have to have these rules in the
first place, but I’m not quite sure she realizes how I completely
lose the ability to think clearly when I’m around Michael. I have
to have something concrete to present to him or things could just
revert back to what they were before.

And then we’d be back where we started.

I finally realize I only have three terms,
but those terms are non-negotiable. If he agrees to them, which I
hope he does, then I feel comfortable moving ahead.

Michael calls me at seven o’clock and says
he’s on his way. I take a quick shower and straighten my long, dark
hair. I dress in dark skinny-jeans, a ruby red silk blouse and
stiletto heels, leaving the top two buttons open on my blouse. And
after applying light make-up and a little perfume right behind my
ears, I’m ready to go.

By seven thirty he’s outside my door.
Thankfully my father’s sleeping on the couch or he’d be grilling
Michael with all sorts of embarrassing questions like what his
intentions are with me. Not that I don’t think Michael can handle
it. I just don’t need the added stress of a skeptical parent
breathing down our necks while I’m trying to make sense of
everything.

Michael opens the car door for me, and pecks
me on the cheek. Getting inside, the song
Unchained Melody
is playing on the radio, and I immediately melt into a thousand
drops of sappiness.

Michael gets in on the other side and as he
drives off, he starts to sing along. I just sit back and enjoy
listening to him and he holds my hand, and glances at me
nostalgically.

“I’ve hungered for your touch…” he sings.
“…a long, lonely time.”

I smile, the words of the song, coming out
of his mouth, completely hypnotizing me.

“And time…goes by…so slowly, and time…can do
so much. Are you…still mine? I need your love. I…need you love.
Speed your love…to…me.”

Is that how he really feels? Part of me
hopes so, but part of me is still trying to strangle that hope to
keep it from getting out of hand.

Twenty minutes later, we arrive at his
house. After his valet drives off with the car, Michael loops his
arm through mine and walks me inside.

“You look and smell amazing,” he says,
dipping his head into my neck and inhaling.

“Good meeting?” I ask.

“Excellent.” He smiles. “This is the largest
deal I have ever made.”

“Oh, wow. That’s exciting.”

He leans his head toward me and runs his
nose along my jawline, sending a hot spark through me. “Did you
bring your list?” he asks.

“No.”

He looks at me with a bewildered expression.
“No?”

“I’ll explain later—when we’re alone,” I say
glancing around at the servants.

He nods. “I thought we could take a swim in
the pool,” he says, tracing his fingers along my collarbone.

“You have a pool?”

“Yes. Swimming helps me relax,” he says.

“You can’t be serious. It’s twenty degrees
outside.”

“I have an indoor pool, silly.” He smirks.
“Did you think I meant outside?”

“How was I supposed to know you had an
indoor pool?” I ask.

He picks me up and twirls me around. “Well,
no matter how crazy you think I am, I don’t do ice-bathing.” He
kisses me briefly on the lips and tells me to go change into a
swimsuit.

I step into “my” closet and find dozens of
swimsuits and bikinis hanging in the swimsuit armoire. They are all
designer brands and are skimpy as hell. Pervert. I grin. I don’t
mind it one bit. For Michael, I’d wear anything he wanted me to.
What? Okay, I’m in dangerous territory now. I had better keep my
head on straight long enough to deliver my terms.

I dress in the hot pink and gold
barely-there bikini. I’m not really ashamed about my body, but I
don’t like the idea of the servants seeing me dressed like this.
Thankfully, there’s a black silk robe, and I slip it on.

We head down the upstairs hallway, and once
we reach the end, we descend the stairs to the basement. After
we’ve walked through another wide hallway, we take a right, and
suddenly in front of us there’s a large, rectangular, indoor
pool.

The lights in the glass-encased room are
dim, and when I see hundreds of tea light candles scattered across
the floor, I gasp. Did he arrange this all for me? Palm trees and
plants stand along the walls, and to the left, a fountain sprouts
out of the Jacuzzi. The floor is made of white and turquoise tiles,
and the ceiling is nothing but a glass cage.

“It’s beautiful,” I say.

“I thought you might like a little candle
light.” He takes my hand and pulls me with him over to a pool
chaise. I undo the sash around my waist, and let the robe drop to
the floor around my feet.

Michael just stands there and lets his eyes
take me in. His mouth opens a little, and he licks his bottom lips
as his eyes smolder with desire. “Damn, that bikini looks great on
you.” His voice is low and husky, and his breath hitches.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I say. Or I
won’t be able to control myself.

“Like what?” he asks, his eyes still lusting
after me.

“Like you want to…you know…” I look around,
uncertain whether or not anyone is listening.

“Like I want to ravage you right here right
now?”

I widen my eyes at him. “Michael…”

“I can’t help it. You’re so beautiful.”

I roll my eyes. But when he takes off his
sweatpants and T-shirt, it’s my turn to gawk at his godlike
physique. But I quickly avert my eyes, not wanting him to accuse me
of doing the exact same thing I just faulted him for. He approaches
me slowly, and I get the feeling he’s up to no good.

“We haven’t discussed…my terms yet,” I say,
my throat suddenly feeling dry as that searing burn of a charge
detonates the air between us.

Once he’s standing right in front of me, he
takes my hands and lifts them to his shoulders. He runs his
fingertips down my upper arms, and down my waist, causing me to
quiver in delight. Slowly, he lowers his face to mine and nips at
my mouth, teasing out a sigh from my lips.

“Don’t worry. I won’t fuck your sweet pussy
until you beg me to,” he says.

No modesty there.

“And beg me, you will.” He wraps an arm
around my waist and tugs at me so the bare skin on my abdomen
presses against his.

I want to roll my eyes at his lack of
humility, but the way he’s talking, I can’t manage to tear my eyes
away from his.

But then he produces a wicked grin, and
before I know it, he tosses me over his shoulder, runs toward the
pool, and jumps in. I scream as I go down, not having expected this
at all.

The warm water envelopes my body, and as we
sink, Michael lets go of me. When my feet hit the bottom, I push
against it and swim to the top. He crests the water just a couple
of feet away from me and whips his head to the side so water goes
flying, pelting across the surface.

Wet Michael, oh he’s sexy: glistening skin,
darker hair, darker eyes. He moves over to me as he whisks the
water off his face, and then he takes my hand and pulls me to him.
The slick skin on his legs moves across mine, and he wraps his arms
around me.

Desire burns deep inside.

“You know, there’s no one down here but you
and me, and I have given strict orders for no one to disturb us,”
he says, pecking kisses down the side of my neck.

Heat thrums in my body. “Well, before we…we
should talk about…”

“Give me your terms. I’ll agree to
anything,” he says, kissing my shoulder.

Suddenly I can’t think about anything at all
other than the fact that he’s one layer away from naked, and as he
laces his fingers across the skin on my back, I emit a barely
audible moan.

“I have three. The first one is counseling.
We should go to counseling,” I say.

“Should?” The right side of his lips tilts
upward.

“We will go to counseling,” I correct.

“I’ll agree to that. Anything else?” He
squeezes his fingers between my bikini bottoms and my ass, gently
caressing there.

“And you’re not allowed to date anyone
else,” I say feather lightly.

“Fuck, Scar…if it isn’t obvious by now…I
only want you. All day. Every day. Every way,” he growls as he
pulls me closer to him. His steel hard erection presses against my
lower abdomen, and I swear if I weren’t in the water right now, my
legs would buckle.

“You know, it’s hard to concentrate when you
talk like that,” I say.

“Okay.” He withdraws his hand and swims
backwards a few paces. I don’t like him gone from me. Not one bit,
although now I might be able to think rationally.

He says, “You’re not allowed to date anyone
else either.”

“I still want to keep in touch with
Spencer,” I say.

I notice how his body goes rigid. “Why?”

“He’s becoming a good friend.”

“You slept with him, Scarlett.”

“Yes. And you are doing business with your
ex-fiancé who I’m sure you slept with on quite a few occasions,” I
retort. I don’t want to think about that—no, not at all—but I
needed to say it in order to strengthen my argument.

He stares at me for a moment as if
considering what I said. “That’s different. I’m doing business with
her
company
. She and I are not friends. And definitely not
friends with benefits.”

“I don’t know how to explain this, but the
sex with Spencer didn’t mean anything. It was just purely
physical.”

His eyebrows rise. “Isn’t that what
guys
are supposed to say?”