Red, White and Beautiful by Bec Botefuhr

face.”
    “Fuck,Marcus,IwaslettinghimtouchmycheekbecauseifImoved, itwasgoingtobetoknockhimoutandIdidn’tthatwouldgodownwell.
    Whydon’tyoutrustme?”
    “It’snotyouIdon’ttrust,”hebarks.
    “Ohbull.YouhonestlybelieveIstillhavefeelingsforhim.Youof allpeopleshouldunderstandhowitfeels,Marcus.Youputmenextto Chayneforalongtime,andyou’vespentweekstryingtoconvinceme shemeansnothingtoyouandyetyoucan’tpossiblybelieveI’mover Ben.Iwastryingtodotherightthing,Iwastryingtomakehim understandthatitwasnevergoingtohappen.DoyouthinkifIwantedto seehimformyownpersonalreasons,thatIwouldhavedoneitoutside theWhiteHouse?”
    Marcusdropshisheadintohishandsandhisbreathingbecomesdeep andragged.Iputmyhandonhisback,runningmyhandsupanddown.
    “Marcus,Iwantyou.Howmanytimesdowehavetogothroughthis possessive,jealouscrap?Ineedyourtrustasmuchasyouneedmine.”
    Helooksupatmeandhiseyesareglassyandpained.
    “Idotrustyou,sweetheart.Butseeingyouthere…ithurt.”
    “Iknow,butIwasjusttryingtogetridofhim.Ihavenothingleftfor Ben,notagoddamnedthing.”
    “Therewasaphotographer,”hesighs.
    “Iknow.”
    “Thatwillbefrontpagenewstomorrow.”
    “Whatarewegoingtodo?”
    Herubshistemples.“Ihonestlydon’tknow.IfChayneseesthat,she mightjusthaveenough…”
    “Wedidn’tdoanythingMarcus,wedidn’tgetcaughtkissing.”
    “No,Isupposeyou’reright.It’snothardevidence.”
    “I’msureitwillbefine,letthemthrowitatus.”
    Heleansbackinthechair.“Iwantyoustayingwithmeuntilthis blowsover.”
    Inod,notbotheringtoargue.He’snotgoingtohearit,nottoday.We bothfallsilentandremainthatwaytheentiredrivetohisplace.Whenwe getin,hewalksinsideanddropshisbriefcaseandphoneontothekitchen bench.Heturnstome,unfasteninghistie.Ifeelmychestclench,the lookinhiseyesisthatofexhaustionandpureconfusion.Likehe’sjust hadenough.HaveIleadhimtowonderwhyhe’sbotheringwithme?
    HaveIruinedagoodsituation?AreMarcusandIjustdestroyingeach otherslowly?
    “I’mgoingtohaveashower,ordersomedinnerok?”hesaysina tiredvoice.
    “Ok,”Iwhisper.
    HepullsoffhisshirtandIcatchaglimpseofhisbackashe disappearsintothebathroom.Withasigh,Ipulloutthemenusbythe phoneandlookthemover.Iordersomepastaandredwine,thenIchange outofmyschoolclothesandgetintosomecomfycottonpantsanda singlettop.WhenMarcuscomesoutwithatowelwrappedaroundhis waist,Ican’thelpmygaze.Ittravelsoverhisdamp,hardbody.Hishair isdrippingdownontohischeeksandgod,helookssodelicious.Imakea mewlingsoundandwantsobadlytowalkoverandtearthattowelclean offhisbody.
    “Sierra,”hewarns.
    “Doyouregretme,Marcus?”Iwhisper,meetinghiseyes.
    Henarrowshiseyesandshakeshishead.“DoyouthinkIregret you?”
    “You’relookingatmerightnow,likeyou’reexhaustedandtiredof trying.Likemaybeyouregretgettinginvolvedwithmebecauseithas causednothingbutpain.”
    Hewalksover,stoppinginfrontofme.Icanfeeltheheatfromhis bodyagainstmyskinandIshiver.Hegripsmyface,titlingmychinup.
    “I’vefeltalotofthingsinmylife,Sierra.I’vefeltpain,anger, disappointmentandregret.Iknowthemalltoowell.WhatIknow,right here,rightnow,withyou…isthatIloveyou.It’snoteasy,butInever expectedittobe.Inever…everthoughtChaynewouldgodownwithouta fightandthiswouldjustbeawalkinthepark.Iwillfightuntilmylast breathforyou,SierraWalters.Youshouldknowthatbynow.”
    Ilookupintohiseyes,andIdotheonethingthatwilllethimknowI feelthesame.ThatI’mwillingtogivemyselftohimcompletely.ThatI trusthimandmostofall,thatIlovehim.Ilowerslowlytomyknees.
    Whentheyhitthefloor,Ilookupathim.
    “Sir,”Iwhisper.
    “Baby,”hemurmurs.
    “Itrustyou.Iloveyou.Iwantallofyou.Iwantitall,rightnow.”
    Hekneelsdowninfrontofme,takingmyfaceinhishands.“You’re toobeautifultobeonyourknees,sweetheart.Ithoughtoncethatwas whatIwantedfromyou,butyou’vetaughtmethatcontrolisn’t everything.Thathavingasubmissiveisn’teverything.Yougiving yourselftome,it’swhatI’vealwayswantedfromyou,butbaby,you don’tneedtobeonyourkneesforanyone,everagain.”
    IfeeltearsfillmyeyesandIgriphisface.“Iwanttodothisforyou,