Chapter 44: Addison and Mark

Addison pulls her coat on, fluffing her hair over the collar. She stares at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if there's something wrong with her. She's an attractive woman, she has a good sense of humor…just because she hasn't heard from Mark in a while doesn't mean she's a loser. And she is NOT thinking about him, she berates herself with a sigh, turning away from the mirror.

"What's up with your hot boyfriend?" Dr. Bailey asks, noting Addison's deep sigh.

"Obviously nothing. He's disappeared." Addison crosses the room to where Miranda waits, the stilettos clipping loudly across the tile floor. "Guess it wasn't as hot as I thought."

"Those smooth-talking pretty boys are never reliable," Miranda comments as they head for the elevator.

"That's fine. I don't need a man to be happy – I have my job. I love my job." But Addison still feels a little angry at being dumped, without so much as a good-bye. When Mark left her after their night of amazing sex, leaving her body sated in ways she never thought possible – taking her over the edge and back again, and then starting all over again – she had been sure he would come back to see her again. Or show up at Joe's, luring her with his seductive voice and his wicked eyes. But it's been three weeks now, and no sign of him – it's as if she made the whole incident up.

She shrugs to show her indifference now. "Really, Miranda, I've hardly given him another thought. It was fun, but it's over."

"Mmmhmmm…."

"Seriously. Now it's been a helluva day, and I need a drink, no – make that several drinks." Jabbing the call button with a manicured nail, Addison looks over at Bailey.

Miranda snorted. "Humph, that never helps, you know that, Addie. Anyway, I can't – I'm late, and I have to get my baby home." She checks her watch. "Go home and rest. You look exhausted."

"Gee thanks, I feel so much better now."

"Just go home – relax."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Addison rummages in her Coach bag to find her cell phone, making sure it's on in case one of her patients' needs an emergency visit. She has it in her hand, as the elevator doors slide open. Taking a step forward, she looks up and finds herself locking eyes with Mark himself. He is leaning against the side of the elevator, hands jammed in his jean pockets, his leather jacket speckled with raindrops. His mouth quirks upwards, as he tries to give her usual charming grin.

"What the…?" Addison feels frozen into place, unable to form a sentence. She gulps, feeling her core clench just at the sight of him, damn it anyway. Why did this man affect her so instantly?

Mark shifts uneasily, feeling unsure of his welcome, for the first time in centuries. "Addison…"

Bailey smirks, looking from one to the other. "Think I'll leave you two alone – I can take the next one." She backs away.

Her comments go unnoticed as Addison tries to come to her senses. "Is this where I fall into your arms?" she asks finally, holding her head up.

Mark raises his hands in defense. "No, I don't expect that. I expect that you're angry." His senses pick up her rapid pulse, the nervous rise of her breathing.

Addison marches into the elevator, and the doors close them inside. "I'm not angry, Mark – just tired. I want to go home. You're not going to sweet talk me into bed again – not after disappearing for three weeks without a word."

Mark moves a little closer, touching her cheek. Consciously trying not to use his allure on her but invading her space just the same. He can see a glitter of tears like diamonds in her green eyes, and he moves in closer. Inhaling the scent that has haunted him, the elusive cream and ginger he has been trying so hard to stop thinking of. Her pulse beckons him as well, beating as quickly as a metronome at the hollow of her throat.

"I'm sorry, Addison. It's just…complicated." He brushes a strand of her hair over her shoulder, lingering in the thick, lustrous feel of it. "I really just came back to say I'm sorry, and…"

"Sorry?" she whispers, meeting his compelling gaze. Flecks of amber seem to glow in his pupils. "Damnit, I don't need this. I wasn't thinking of you…no…not at all."

"Good. I wasn't thinking of you either." Mark succumbs to her tempting mouth, leaning closer to brush his lips against hers. Nearly groaning at the taste of her. The thought of having her again, just one more time to see if it would purge her from his system is also tempting him. For a moment, she responds, her lips parting, tongue darting in to meet his.

Then she backs away, eyes wide, as the elevator slows to a stop at the main level. "What do you mean, it's complicated?" she whispers. "Are you married?"

Mark sighs. "No, nothing that simple. Look, can we get out of here – somewhere private?"

"No…I don't think…"

"Just give me a little of your time, please?" Mark asks, as the doors slide open. Addison hesitates briefly, and then starts to walk out, unwilling to let him con her into anything. Even though her traitorous body is demanding him to lick her up one side and down the other, getting lost in full body contact, hot, sweaty, lose-your-fucking-mind sex.

"No – go home, or wherever it is you belong to. I don't want to see you again."

"Damnit…Addison…" Mark sprints after her, catching her arm.

"Leave. Me. Alone." Addison pointedly looks at her arm, determined to keep him out of her life. She doesn't care if they are becoming the center of interest in the lobby as she faces him. Several of the staff are heading out at the same time, and she ignores them all. Hands on her hips, her emerald eyes blazing, she stares at him defiantly.

"Damn, but you're stubborn, Addie," Mark grins.

"And you're insufferable!" she spits, turning on her heel to walk outside.

From their vantage point at the top of the stairs, Cristina and Izzie take in the whole scenario. "Shit, what is he doing here again?" Cristina mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Trying to get into Montgomery's pants from the look of it," Izzie giggles. "She's such an ice queen – she'll freeze his dick off!"

Cristina rolls her eyes at that comment. "I better call Alexei and tell him he's gonna have a guest. No way Sloan's getting anywhere with her tonight."

Mark takes a slow deep breath, watching Addison walk away. This isn't how he envisioned this meeting. He follows her outside, where the fine drizzle continues. He lets her walk ahead to her car, where he makes his move. This time he doesn't hold back, letting his allure wash over her. "Addison, listen to me. I wanted to get in touch with you sooner, but it was best to leave you alone. There are things about me that you can't begin to understand. I can't be the man you want me to be." He searches her face in the damp mist. "I just came back to apologize, as I said before, and to say good-bye."

"Oh…good-bye?"

Mark nods slowly. Rain clings to her hair, dripping down her cheek, and beads her eyelashes. Her scent consumes him again, and without thinking, he leans closer, taking her lips in a long kiss. She tastes of rain and pure female, and it calls to his primal male in way no other has. His body presses her against the car, heedless of the rain, twining his fingers in her hair.

The slide of his tongue over hers matches the slide of male heat against her hips. Addison moans against his mouth, lost in the potent desire that he ignites in her. "Just one night," he finally whispers in her ear, leaving her mouth feeling bruised and bereft of his. "Let me take care of you for one night, baby." He wants her so badly – she feels perfect in his arms, and her independent spirit makes him smile like no other female he has taken in a futile attempt to erase her from his mind. Maybe Thatcher should have just erased his thoughts, instead of commanding him to erase Addison's.

Addison feels her resistance fading gradually, caught in the web of his seductive voice and his kisses. "I'll regret this in the morning," she sighs, her voice husky with want. And she wanted… that muscular body between her legs, that wicked mouth on her. Was that so wrong?

"You won't regret anything," Mark growls. This time he will make sure she has no regrets, or memories, of him when he leaves her.

Before either of them can think too much about it, they are in her apartment, the door slammed shut behind them, and Mark is pressing her up against it. He has his hands in her hair, kissing her mouth, bruising it from the intensity, teeth pulling at her lip. With one hand, he gathers up her skirt, giving him access to the satiny skin underneath. With his other hand, he pulls her blouse away from the skirt and slides underneath to unsnap her bra. Then he moves his palm around to cup her breast, and she pushes against his hand. She sighs in his mouth, and he deepens the kiss, crazy about the feel of her against him again.

At the same time, Addison pulls at the buckle of his belt with anxious fingers. She wants him to take her over the edge, she wants his mouth all over her, and she wants his heat. Impatiently, she pushes his shirt out of the way, the need driving her, consuming her. It's as if they are feeding off each other's desperation - not that it matters; nothing matters except what they are doing to each other.

Half stumbling, half walking, they make it to the bedroom, and fall onto the bed, still tugging at their clothes, discarding them in a trail. Coming up for air, she murmurs, "Mark—"

"Hmmm?" He slides his mouth across her cheek, his fingers rolling her nipples into harder peaks. The heat in her clit intensifies, and she sighs in delight. He kisses her lips again and lifts his head to smile wickedly at her. He is hot and hard against her, and every rational thought she might have had deserts her.

"Just so you know, I'm actively NOT thinking about you right now," she whispers, hypnotized by his amazing eyes, that seem to devour her in the darkness.

"Honey, I'm not thinking anything," Mark says huskily, "At all. Guaranteed." His fangs are aching to take a taste of her again, but he restrains that part of himself for the moment. This is all about her pleasure tonight, all about enjoying the moment, since it will never happen again.

Without another word, he pushes her back against the cool sheets, and his mouth consumes her, sucking on her tongue, biting her lip again. All the while rubbing himself against her, capturing her with his power, his need, with the size and the heat of him. The kiss seems endless, sensually charged, and Addison is surprised at the intensity. She hadn't expected the aching pleasure that warmed her – her only thought had been the deed itself, making her feel whole again. But here she is, clinging to him, her body limp with desire, as he touches her with his sure fingers.

She doesn't want it to end…