Title: A Pair of Hearts - Chapter 1
Author: Romantique (The Original)
Classification: Gary/Marissa Romance Adventure
Rating: T
Summary: This fic takes place immediately after my Early Edition fic, "Hearts."
Legal: These characters do not belong to me. I'm just a fan and have not made a dime. Please email me to obtain permission to post.
A/N: At the suggestion of several reviewers to write another Gary/Marissa fic.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Outside of the diner, Gary and Marissa walked hand in hand down Wabash Avenue towards The Hilton where cabs flanked the entrance. It almost felt as if they were walking on air. But before they reached the block where the grand hotel resided, Gary abruptly stopped walking.
"Marissa?" he murmured, his voice low as the two stood on the corner. "Now that we've discovered we have these feelings for one another, I have this overwhelming urge to kiss you."
"Well?" She turned towards the sound of his voice. "What's stopping you?"
"Yeah," he whispered, leaning in closer. "What's stopping me?"
His hand caressed her face and his lips gently pressed against the fullness of her mouth, and they kissed for the first time. It was sweet, warm and tender, loving. He held her tighter. She felt small in his arms. Their breathing became heavier, the kiss, hungry. Marissa parted her lips, allowing their tongues also to meet for the first time.
On the busy downtown corner, as people passed them on their right and their left, they were oblivious to it all. Time stood still for Gary and Marissa, for one, endless kiss. After a time, and it was a long time, they finally came up for air.
"Wow," Marissa finally spoke, her lips flushed.
"Wow," Gary echoed.
"I always suspected you were a good kisser, Gary Hobson," she said with a smile. "I just had no idea how good."
"You're a good kisser, too, Marissa." Gary nodded. "Can I kiss you again?"
"Mmmm. I'd like that," she answered.
But first, he guided them out of the foot traffic, closer to a nearby wall of the hotel. Then, he went in for a second kiss. This time, there was steam, passion behind their kiss on both their parts. It was as if a fire had been lit.
"Gary?" Marissa asked in a winded whisper.
"Hmmm?" he sort of responded, eyes closed.
"I think we need some privacy," she suggested.
"Where?" he asked in between more kissing. "Anywhere you want to go."
"Your place?" she suggested.
"Sure," he answered, still kissing. "But we'll have to use the back entry if we want privacy from McGinty's."
And he took Marissa's hand and led her towards the hotel cab stand and asked the bellman to hail them a taxi.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Once inside Gary's flat, they were greeted by Cat's 'Meow.'
"Not now, Cat," Gary scolded, allowing Cat to enter, locking the door behind them and leading Marissa to the sofa in the seating area of his flat. They made it inside without arousing suspicion of anyone at the bar. "I'll call Vadim and let him know he's on his own for a while."
First, Gary glanced at The Paper. All remained clear. Picking up the phone, he dialed downstairs to the bar.
"Vadim? This is Gary. Now listen, Marissa won't be in today. She had an appointment cross town. And me? I'm out running errands this morning. Do you think you can hold down the fort for a few hours?"
Listening to the one sided conversation, Marissa couldn't help but giggle as she heard Gary explain, "No, not an actual fort. It's an expression we use in this country." And then, "That's right. If anyone is looking for me, tell them I'll be back this afternoon. Thank you, Vadim."
As Marissa removed her scarf and her coat, Gary joined her on the sofa. "Now, where were we?"
For a third time, they kissed. Lip-locked with privacy, Marissa helped Gary out of his leather jacket which ended up on the coffee table, and their kissing became more hurried and frantic.
Feeling the urgency that had been on a tortured slow burn during the long cab ride to Gary's place, Marissa suggested, "Maybe we'd be more comfortable on the bed?"
"Is that what you want?" Gary asked, never wanting to be presumptuous, always a gentleman.
"It's what I want," she assured him, as she was certain that was where they were headed.
He took her hand and led her over to his bed. Out of habit, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was almost 10:30 a.m. Quickly, he tried to smooth out his rumpled sheets and bedspread.
"Gary," she lilted, as she could hear him. "I already know your place is lacking in the woman's touch department. I already know about The Paper. I know about your friends. Your parents. Your empty fridge. Your business. I know all your bad habits. And your good ones. And . . ."
As he toed off his sneakers and sat her down on the side of the bed, he asked, "And?"
He resumed by bending down on the floor and unzipping her boots, allowing his hand to sensually glide over her smooth leg as he removed each one.
"And I love you," she answered.
"Warts and all?" He smiled up at her.
"Warts and all." She helped him up by pulling him towards her on the bed.
"Mmmmmm. Marissa. You smell . . . soooo good," he whispered, taking her into his arms.
"It's jasmine," she offered. "And you? You smell . . . fresh. Despite your early morning run."
"Irish Spring," he offered in return.
"Oh, is that what that is," she remarked, suddenly noticing she had smelled this scent on him before. "I always liked it. Clean, yet unpretentious. Like you."
He helped her unbutton her blouse, allowing his fingertips to trace over her dark skin and the lacey trim of her bra. "Your skin is . . . so soft."
"But I won't break, you know?" she suggested. "You don't have to be a Boy Scout with me."
"A Boy Scout?" Gary asked, puzzled.
"Gary? When was the last time you threw caution to the wind and made mad, passionate love to a woman?" she asked, exploring his face with her fingertips.
"Uh," he thought for a moment.
"That's what I thought," she said. And she knew what she had to do. She would have to take control of the situation.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Gary rolled over on his back, gasping for air, "Holy . . ."
"Chicago?" Marissa offered.
"Yeah. Holy . . . Chicago!" Gary laughed.
He scooped Marissa up into his arms and brought her closer to him, under the covers. "I've always thought you were the greatest, but man. You really are the greatest," he declared.
She fell into his chest, her legs entwined in his. "You were pretty great, yourself," she concurred. And she gently planted a kiss on his chest.
"So, you weren't . . . disappointed?" he asked.
"Disappointed?" she laughed. "You are certainly no Boy Scout." After a beat, she asked, "Were you? Disappointed?"
Hugging her tighter, he answered, "Are you kidding? I can't remember ever being this happy, Marissa." He kissed her temple. "I guess I'm just wondering why it took us so long to figure us out."
"Or why it took Emmett to figure us out," she corrected him.
The Cat jumped up on the foot of the bed, purring and purring.
"Oh? Do you approve?" Gary asked his feline friend.
"Evidently, he does," Marissa concurred.
Mostly out of habit, Gary reached down on the floor and grabbed the paper and quickly leafed through it. "Nothing," he announced, frankly surprised. "It seems The Paper is giving us some time to ourselves. Even that accident this afternoon has been replaced with a real estate ad."
"That's great, Gary," she concurred. "When's the last time you had some time . . . just to relax."
"I can't remember the last time," he honestly tried to remember. "What say I take you out to dinner tonight? Somewhere other than McGinty's?"
"That would be nice," she said, a little more than suspicious. It was common knowledge that Gary Hobson could be tight with a buck. "I know how you don't like spending money. It doesn't have to be any place expensive."
"Well, sure it does," he squeezed her in his arms. "It's not every day I find the woman I've been searching for all my life, right under my nose."
Marissa laughed. "No. I guess not."
"How about someplace romantic?" he nuzzled into her neck.
She had never seen this side of Gary before. "With music? Dancing?" she asked, responding to his warm and electric touch.
"With music and dancing," he agreed. "How about Trattoria? Do you like Italian food?"
"I love Italian food," she smiled, thinking she really liked this side of him . . . a lot.
Gary glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. He reached over the nightstand for the phone and dialed information. "Trattoria No. 10, please," he said to the operator. Once connected, he continued, "I'd like to make dinner reservations for two this evening? 7:00? And if you have a cozy, romantic table in a corner, there will be an extra twenty in it for you." After a beat, Marissa heard him say, "Yes. It's a special occasion. Hobson, Gary Hobson. Thank you. We'll see you at 7:00 sharp."
He hung up the receiver, turned back to Marissa, and resumed nuzzling her neck. "We're all set for tonight."
She kissed the side of his face and ran her fingers over his shoulders and his back.
"Keep that up, and you'll get me going again," he gave her a friendly warning.
"Maybe that's the idea," she teased.
They kissed and, this time, a more relaxed, confident Gary took the lead at a more leisurely pace.
Making love to a blind woman was a new experience for him. Marissa was all about the touch. Her touch was meaningful, sensual, and he surrendered to it. Surrender required a great deal of trust on Gary's part, and he had that in Marissa, no questions asked. She spent a lot of time on his face, his mouth, capturing what he 'looked' like. He peppered her with tender little kisses as their bodies responded to one another with movements as old as time.
Slowly, rhythmically, Gary brought her to her sweet release before allowing his own. Panting for air, he whispered, "I really do love you, Marissa."
Marissa, her voice quivering, responded, "I know. I really do love you, too."
Gary reached over again and set the alarm clock for a couple of hours, and the two snuggled in, under the covers, for a sweet nap together.
(To be continued . . .)