“It’s our mother,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “I just need a second to see . . .”
Crystal got no further. Mark was now in the lead and pulling her toward her now-gawking mother. “Mrs. Webber, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said in a voice that was pure ice. The fact that he didn’t offer his hand also indicated his lack of friendliness toward the woman staring back.
“Who, pray tell, are you?” Dot Webber sniffed. “And why are you holding my daughter’s hand? That’s not appropriate at all, young man.”
“Mother,” Crystal said warningly.
Without missing a beat, Mark piped in, “My name is Mark DeSanto, and I’m involved with Crystal—which would be why I’m touching her.”
Her mother’s face bloomed red so suddenly that it was fascinating to watch—until she opened her mouth. “Well, doesn’t this just explain so much!” Turning to Crystal she said, “I swear, girl, you’ve been difficult since the day you were born. There’s a troublemaker in every family, and Lord knows you’re ours.”
“Mother,” Ella gasped, looking horrified. Crystal had heard some version of that same theme so many times; it had almost lost its power to hurt her anymore—but not quite.
“Ella, you always were a bleeding heart. Your sister’s a bad seed. I mean, just look at how she’s been leading poor Bill on by going to marriage counseling with him one day,” then, pointing at Mark, she added, “and fornicating with this guy the next. It’s not the behavior of a lady and certainly not a Webber.”
Crystal could feel the blood drain from her face as her eyes flew to Mark’s. Oh no . . . he looked beyond furious, but strangely enough, not surprised. How could that be? Maybe all of her mother’s malicious statement hadn’t registered with him yet. “That’s enough!” His hiss came out like a clap of thunder, causing the three of them to jerk. A vein throbbed visibly on his forehead as he asked, “What’s wrong with you? You come to your daughter’s house, uninvited I’m guessing, and then proceed to tear your other daughter to shreds in front of guests? And you’ve appointed yourself judge and jury of moral conduct. Clue the fuck in, lady. Before you pass judgment on someone, take a long look in the mirror.”
“What’s going on here?” Declan asked as he walked up.
“Mrs. Webber was just leaving,” Mark answered, giving Declan a hard look. It seemed that volumes were spoken between the two men as Declan’s lips thinned.
He turned to his wife, asking, “Are you okay, Ellie?”
Ella gave him a slight shake of her head before surprising them all by saying, “Yes, Mother is leaving. Could you walk her out, honey?”
Crystal stood frozen to her spot as a sputtering Dot Webber was escorted gently but firmly from the foyer and out the door. She looked over her shoulder to see everyone attempting to look like they weren’t riveted by what had just taken place. “I’m so sorry, Crys,” Ella whispered as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “I can’t even make excuses for her anymore because there are none.”
Declan walked back in, looking irritated. “I swear to God, that woman is fucking insane. What did she do this time?”
Crystal sent Ella a pleading look, not wanting to get into it again. The damage had already been done tonight, and she just wanted to go home and enjoy one hell of a pity party. Her sister turned to her husband and lightly patted his arm. “We’ll talk about it later, babe. Let’s go make sure everyone has enough to eat and drink.”
Declan gave Crystal a concerned look as if noticing her pallor. “You all right, sweetheart?” he asked before dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“Sure,” Crystal managed to get out past the lump in her throat. “It’s been a long day, though, so I’m going to head home now. Please give my congratulations to Suzy and Gray again.”
“Let me get my keys and I’ll take you,” Declan offered, already walking away to collect what he needed. Her brother-in-law was such an amazing man.
“I’ve got her, Dec,” Mark spoke up, still sounding tense from the earlier scene. This is probably the last thing he needed tonight, Crystal thought, after having to deal with his own parents just days earlier. “We’ll take her car. If you’ll just tell Denny to go on home when he’s ready . . .”
“Sure thing, man,” Declan agreed easily.
Ella gave her a hug, whispering in her ear, “Call me later. I love you.”
In another few moments, they were out the door and Mark was helping her into the passenger seat of her Volkswagen Beetle. Then he gave her what she was in desperate need of—laughter. Just watching him trying to fold his tall frame into her tiny car was hilarious. And when he finally managed to get in and close the door, his eyes fell on the built-in vase with the bright flowers inside of it and the look of astonishment he gave her was comical. When he reached out to touch it, she started giggling so hard she could barely remain upright. “Did you put that there?” he asked, studying the floral arrangement as if it were a science experiment.
“It came with the car,” she managed to wheeze.
He looked around him for another moment before putting the key in the ignition. “I can’t see a man ever buying one of these. I’m going to have to turn in my man card after driving the damn thing home.”
“Ah, come on,” she teased. “Aren’t you secure enough in your masculinity to handle a small vehicle? Your Porsche is about the same size.”
“Angel, a Porsche is all testosterone. This—whatever it is—is strictly for those with a vagina.”
He teased her about her beloved Beetle for the five minutes it took to get to his house. Despite the ugly scene with her mother, she found herself able to relax for the first time in days. He’d brought her here instead of taking her home. Obviously, he hadn’t caught the part in her mother’s rant about Bill. She had to tell him, though, before something that was essentially innocent was blown out of proportion.
Mark parked the car and then took one last look at the flower vase before shaking his head and getting out. He walked to her side, opening her door and holding out a hand to her. He didn’t release his hold on her as he punched in some numbers on the garage keypad, raising the door so that they could walk through and access the kitchen entrance. He led her to a barstool, then took a bottle of amber-colored liquor from the cabinet and poured generous measures into two glasses. He pushed one of them in front of her, saying, “I believe this evening calls for something more than wine.”
She took a tentative sip and felt like her throat was flaming. She gasped as she tried to breathe. Mark chuckled while tapping her on the back. “Holy crap,” she croaked. “What is this stuff? Gasoline?”
“That’s scotch, Angel—the good stuff. Now be a good girl and drink up.” She had just taken another sip when he added, “Because when you’re finished, we’re going to discuss the fact that you’ve been seeing a marriage counselor with your ex-husband one day and riding my cock the next.”
That was all it took; she spit the fiery liquid across the granite countertop, with some of it splattering the front of Mark’s suit. “I—you . . . heard,” she blurted out before stopping abruptly. God, that didn’t sound good at all. Instead of her knee-jerk reaction, it might have been a better idea to play dumb, at least until she’d collected her wits enough to have a rational discussion.
“I already knew, Angel,” he said flatly.
“You did?” She gaped up at him. Shit, she just kept making this worse on herself.
He removed his now-damp suit jacket and tie, draping them over one of the spare stools. Then he settled across from her. When she remained quiet, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My parents told me about it on their surprise visit this week.”
She couldn’t have heard him correctly. How could his parents possibly know what she did in her private life? “Could you repeat that?” she asked, unable to make sense of anything at this point.
He sighed. “When my parents showed up, it was to nose into my personal life. Apparently, it had trickled down the family gra
pevine that I was seeing a woman. Since it’s . . . unusual, they felt the need to invade not only my privacy, but yours as well. During the course of that, they ran across the fact that you were divorced but appeared to be on the verge of reconciling with your husband. Or at least your recent trip to a marriage counselor seemed to suggest that.”
“Oh, my God,” Crystal gasped, before jumping to her feet. “They told you that?” When he nodded, she put her hands in her hair, more embarrassed than she’d probably ever been in her life—and that was saying something. What kind of person must they think she was to be dating their son while trying to get back together with her husband? A harlot, that’s what they think. Probably the gold-digging variety, no less. As she paced the kitchen, she muttered to herself, “Their son finally has a girlfriend, and she’s a bona fide tramp. Boy, that’s just something you want to put on your family newsletter and holiday cards. Oh look, here’s Mark and his slut of a lady friend. They’re very happy together—when she’s not dating her ex-husband.” Crystal paused in her rant when it registered that Mark was laughing so hard he was shaking. “What in the world do you find so funny?” she yelled. “This is a disaster of epic proportions, and you’re amused?”
He held up a finger as if asking for one second while he fought to control his mirth. “Sorry, Angel,” he managed to get out. She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring, which didn’t seem to faze him at all. He got up and walked to where she was standing and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her into his arms. She stood stiffly before letting out a huff and melting into his embrace. “I’m sorry they did that to you, Angel, and I promise that it’s been dealt with. But you do owe me an explanation, don’t you think?”
“You’re right. I do,” she answered quietly. “Can we go in the living room and sit down?” Instead of answering, he tucked her under his shoulder and they walked down the hallway together before he dropped down to the sofa and pulled her into a similar position.
“Now, what’s going on?” he asked, not sounding angry, but rather determined.
“This is why you took off without telling me, isn’t it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“That’s correct,” he replied, without hesitation. “I was pissed and uncertain as to how to handle it. It seemed better that I take the adult version of a time-out, so to speak, than stay here and say something stupid.”
“We’ll get back to that in a moment,” she said before telling him exactly why she had agreed to attend the first counseling session with Bill. He remained quiet, letting her talk until she reached the part of her telling her ex-husband that she wouldn’t be accompanying him again and that she wished him well.
“So that’s what brought on the visit from your mother this evening?” he guessed correctly.
“Yep. I wasn’t taking her calls, so she must have decided to corner her other daughter, probably in hopes that I was there hiding from her. Most people might have left it for another day when they saw a driveway full of strange cars, but not my mother. She’s not shy at all about causing a scene, as you witnessed firsthand.”
Mark dropped his head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Even after everything you told me about her, I still never expected her to be as bad as she was. I may have joked about it before, but she truly is the female version of my father, and you have no idea how much I hate that for you, Angel.”
Crystal stroked a hand up and down his chest, enjoying being close to him once again. “It’s not a good feeling to know that I’ll probably never have many peaceful moments in my life because of her. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll eventually just crack under the pressure of it all.”
His arm around her had tensed before relaxing once again. “You’re stronger than that, baby. Your mother is a bully and needs to be put in her place.”
Looking up at his handsome face, she quirked a brow in wry amusement. “And how’s that working out for you with your father?”
“Touché.” He winced. “Possibly, this is one of those instances when you need to do as I say and not as I do. Believe me, I know how hard it is, Angel. I’ve lived it for most of my life. And I don’t want that for you.”
Allowing her hand to slide downward until it reached the bulge behind his zipper, she lowered her voice and told him, “What I want is to not think of parents at all for the rest of the night. I’ve missed you so much.”
“Fuck, I’ve missed you too,” he hissed when she unbuckled his belt, before dealing with the fastening and zipper on his pants. He was already semihard when she lowered the material of his boxer briefs, releasing his heavy weight. “Angel,” Mark shuddered, thrusting his hips upward to meet her stroking touch.
His mind was still on everything that had happened earlier at Ella’s, but his body was firmly aligned with Angel. When she wrapped her plump lips around his cock, a groan escaped his throat. He threaded a hand through her hair, guiding her wet mouth up and down his length. “Fuck yeah, baby,” he moaned. “Relax your throat and take it all.” She gagged as she attempted to go too far. The vibrations were enough to nearly make him lose his load far too soon. It took her a few more attempts, but then she was working him exactly the way he needed. “That’s right, Angel,” he praised. “You feel so goddamn good.”
His balls tightened and his spine tingled, proof that he was close. He tried to pull back, not wanting to catch her by surprise. “No,” she mumbled around his cock and took him in farther. That was it for him. He was coming and powerless to stop. He only hoped she would push him away before she suffocated on his cum.
Instead, she took everything that he gave her and sucked him dry. “Angel.” He found himself begging for mercy. “Baby, stop before I pass out.”
As spent as he was, when she sat back on her knees and licked her lips, he felt his dick twitch. Then he lost his heart to her when she gave him a saucy smile and asked, “Good, right?” At this defining moment, he knew he was in love for the first time in his life. Most men were probably prone to some fuzzy thoughts after a blow job, but an outstanding one was enough to make the biggest of bastards sentimental. Since none of those had ever applied to him, he knew this was different. He could easily picture himself having moments such as this with her for the rest of his life, which was the real confirmation that she was different. “It was amazing,” he agreed as he stroked her cheek. He stood, pulling his pants up so that he wouldn’t trip over them, before extending a hand to her. “Come on, baby; let’s go to bed.” She allowed him to lead her down the hallway and into his darkened bedroom. He left her at the doorway while he walked across the room and turned on a bedside lamp. Then he quickly stripped and took a seat at the foot of the bed. She looked at him uncertainly as if awaiting his instructions. Good girl. “Do you need my help taking your dress off?”
She shook her head, saying quietly, “No.”
He palmed his rapidly hardening cock, stroking it from tip to root lightly as he said, “Remove it—now.” She only hesitated briefly before bending to grip the hem of her dress and pulling it slowly over her head. Before she could release the material from her hands, he said, “Now place it on the chair close to you.”
“Yes . . . ,” she replied.
Mark had a feeling that it was on the tip of her tongue to add “sir,” but she didn’t. Thank Christ, because he wasn’t sure how he would have handled it. The urge to dominate her was already overwhelming, and she wasn’t ready for that. Something about her demeanor told him that she wouldn’t be averse to it, but to him, she wasn’t like the others. He’d never been a tender lover, but with her, that was his first inclination. He could far too easily imagine a life where they could both express themselves sexually, secure in the unconditional acceptance that their love for each other would bring.
“Take your bra off for me.” Again, without question, she flicked the clasp between her breasts and released it before putting it on top of her dress. He continued to pull on his cock, content to watch as she bared herself to him. “Now the pan
ties, beautiful girl,” he directed. She was absolutely gorgeous as she shimmied out of a scrap of lace and added it to the pile. A look of surprise flashed across her face when he pointed to the other chair and said, “Now have a seat. Spread your legs and put them over each armrest.” Again, she barely faltered before doing as he instructed.
When she parted her thighs, revealing her neatly trimmed sex, Mark felt his renowned control beginning to slip. While he was attempting to regroup, she asked shyly, “Now what?”
Now I come in my hand like an inexperienced teenager, he thought dryly. Clearing his throat, he said huskily, “Touch yourself, baby. Show me what you do when you’re alone.”
He almost choked on his tongue when she looked around and asked, “Do you—um, have a vibrator?”
Sweet heaven. Count to ten . . . do anything but focus on the visual of what she’s implying. “I—not at the present, Angel,” he wheezed. “Make do without it.”
She shrugged her shoulders and then dropped a hand between her legs. She began circling her clit as if she had all the time in the world. His cock was so hard by this point, it could be used as a fucking battering ram. He squeezed the tip and attempted to blank his mind. Not easily done when Angel was sitting just feet away with a finger now buried in her wet heat. “Mark,” she moaned as her motions went from languid to feverish.
She was close—almost at the edge. “Keep your eyes open and on me, Angel,” he called out, bringing her head up immediately. She was magnificent. She embraced her sexuality in a way that made him weak with desire. She was his perfect match. She made him a better version of himself, and he gave her the freedom to shine in a way that she had always been denied.
Never looking away from him, she thrust two fingers deep into her channel and her body clenched. He could smell her arousal as she came by her own hand while chanting, “Mark . . . Oh God, Mark . . .”
Her words were his undoing. Taking her slowly at first never seemed to be an option. The edge had to be taken off before he could take his time and make love to her. He didn’t even bother to tell himself tonight that it was anything other than that. If it were, she would have been long gone like the women he had known before her. “Come to me, Angel,” he demanded softly. He watched as she rose to her feet before moving gracefully across the dimly lit room, stopping just inches from him. He reached for the hand that she had so recently pleasured herself with and sucked the two fingers he knew she had used into his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her sweet, musky flavor. He licked until nothing remained before releasing her digits. He raised his arms to encircle her waist, and then surprised them both by laying his head on her stomach. After a moment, he felt her fingers run through his hair, stroking him gently.