Chapter Twenty Three

She loved him. But did she really mean it? Did she actually love him or was she just desperate for love, to be loved, as the whole world was? Thinking back, she had never said she loved him first. He was always the one responsible to say it first, and sometimes he would say it numerous times just to hear her echo it back. But why, how, and… what on earth was he suppose to do? He had just sworn off girls and she, as far as he knew, was a lesbian. Can humankind defy all natural laws of Mother Nature that associated with true love? Was that totally possible?

Hmm… Note to self: sci-fi/romance movie involving aliens falling in love with vampire werewolves.

They went to a suburban café place, and the waiter sat them in half-moon booth. Mark sat on one end while Maureen sat on the other. They didn't talk much on the way over there, a few glances at each other, two or three words now and again. Mark just couldn't stop thinking about what he should do. All these questions were reeling in his head. Did she really love him? What made her realize this sudden phenomenon? Did he love her? He would soon find out. The waiter placed their drinks on the table.

Mark came to realize that he didn't feel nervous at all. He just continued to eye her through his spectacles hoping to decipher the glazed codes in and around her pupils. He couldn't figure out if she meant it. Has it been that long that he had forgotten what Maureen was like? Or has she really changed? Maureen picked up her mug of hot chocolate and sipped it. Mark took his own drink, and waited for her to speak. She said nothing.

"So… start from the beginning," said Mark.

"Wait, first tell me something," she said. "Is this serious? You and Michelle? Because I don't want to ruin this for you. I don't want to-"

"I've already said that we're over," said Mark clearly. "I meant it, in the cab. She's too much like them."

"Them?"

"My parents." He didn't want to have to explain the long story about their unexpected visit. Besides this wasn't about him this time. It was about her, and Mark wanted to know what was going on in her mind. "Look, go on with your story. This isn't about me."

"What do you want me to say? Where do I start?" she asked.

"Well when did you know...?" he wanted to finish the question with "that you loved me" but found himself too afraid to say it. "I mean it's strange… the Joanne thing…"

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean the 'Joanne thing'?"

What do you think? Mark sighed. "You, being a lesbian. I mean, are you straight or what? I don't know if I can get used to the feeling when you're hanging with one of your friends and all you can think about is licking whip cream off one of them… although Roger said that wasn't such a bad thought." Mark shook his head. "I'm not into labels… but I can't help but think if that was some sort of… phase."

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I thought about that a lot and I don't know. But you know me, I'm always up to try new things, and at the time I thought Joanne was right for me. You were never there for me, so I thought she would do."

Mark's heart broke. He screwed up his face so she wouldn't notice. "Never there?"

"Right after April died. That's why I said I was angry with her so much. Roger was devastated by all that and you… you tried to be the best friend you could be so you stood with him… you were always there for him. And then there was a point where it felt as if you weren't there, like there was nothing between us, like I was nothing. Maybe it's childish, and I have nothing against Roger, but I was your girlfriend Mark, and April's death hurt me just as much as Roger. I needed attention and you weren't there, so I started looking for this attention at other places."

Mark stared at her, stunned. He never knew that she felt this way. He didn't mean to ignore her when April died, it just happened. Roger never lost anyone so important to him, and Mark hated seeing him down like that. He remembered sharing his best friend's pain- what if that had happened to him, Mark recalled, he knew Roger would stay beside him if Maureen took April's place. His agony was unbearable to watch. So Mark did what he could for him, but he just assumed Maureen would understand. He thought that she would wait for him. God, how could he be so selfish?

"I… I didn't know. Maureen… she was his girlfriend. I thought they were going to get married. You know how much he hurt… but why didn't you ever tell me?" He had this desperate look in eyes. He would have made it better if she had just said something.

"When could I tell you that?" she asked. "You were always busy attending Roger, or busy with your work. Look Mark, I don't blame you, I guess I would do the same for my best friend. God knows, I did my best for Collins when Angel died… and I understand that April was Roger's girlfriend, but I was yours," she looked at him urgently, "and that hurt me."

Mark looked at her sorrowfully. He had never seen her so wounded before. It was always the other way around. So this is what it must be like in Maureen's shoes. He didn't feel good at all. Did she encounter the same emotions when the tables were turned? If she did, he embraced how much she cared. But he still didn't know. "The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. You have to tell me these things Maureen. I was worried about Roger and all the shit that was going on- I couldn't have known. You should have told me… then maybe this would have never happened."

"Maybe… but I don't believe that sinking into the past is a good thing. No day but today, remember?" She smiled slowly at that philosophy. "Anyway, I think it really struck me that day... when I bumped into Joanne and her new lover… some boring lawyer, and I felt absolutely nothing. It didn't even hurt. But then later that day… I saw you kiss Michelle in our building… and that hurt like hell. I tried not to think about it, I tried to deny it, and then last week I suddenly realized."

"You realized…" He didn't know if he meant that as a question or a statement. But Mark couldn't help but think that Maureen was secretly in love with him for a week. It was almost unbearable, not in the sense that there was nothing more that he had ever wanted before (because it was all he used to think about), but that she actually felt something. After all this time of convincing himself that there was nothing more between them, the cycle started all over again. But this time was different... right? She loved him. But he wasn't sure if he felt anything back. "I'm sorry… it's just hard to believe."

"Well, there's only one thing left to find out."

Mark looked at her curiously. "What's that?"

"Will you give me a second chance? I'll be good, I promise. I will never ever do anything to hurt you, I will never disappear in the middle of the night, I will never flirt with strangers in a bar… damnit, I won't even GO into a bar-"

"Maureen wait." Mark laughed a bit, and shook his head. It was happening way too fast and he wasn't sure if he could keep up. She really wanted to be with him. He could hear it. The shoe really was on the other foot. He was the one who use to beg her for things, but now she... it was laughable. But something was definitely different. Maureen, I hear you, he thought to himself, I hear it. The disparity in her voice, the passion. But how could he trust her again? He was afraid that she was setting him up for the same trap he fell for the first time. He was sick of promises because they could always be broken. But… it was one of the strongest bonds of trust he'd ever known. He looked at her. "Don't make these promises. You don't know. You can't help yourself. But… I'm not sure…" He bowed his head down. He was so confused, nothing seemed logical in this damn world.

There was a bit of silence for a while. "Why?" she whispered.

He wasn't sure what to say, how to answer, so he just talked. It was too difficult to sort out his thoughts so quickly, and he felt that he just needed to let his emotions out as well. "Every single day I hoped for you to come back to me. I've always held on to something of yours and that gave me something to believe in… then I finally get over you, and you come back to me… do you know how that makes me feel?"

"Look, Mark, I'm sorry if I… oh just forget it, I shouldn't have said anything." She quickly took some money out of her purse and put in on the table, and began to leave. Mark's heart raced. What was this feeling that was coming back? Why did he want to care so much? Could you be so stupid, Cohen, to let her go again?

"Where are you going?" asked Mark.

"I don't know. Out of here. I'm too embarrassed to stay here."

Welcome to the club. "Maureen, sit down."

"Why? I'm not used to getting rejected, Mark, and I'm really not in the mood for it right now."

Mark wondered why she was running away all of a sudden. He withstood more humiliation than this! Something was obviously making her vulnerable because she had been doing that lately- here, at the club. What was making her... change? Besides, she was the one who brought up this subject. He wouldn't let her leave until he knew everything. "Maureen, you're the one who started this. Don't you dare leave this table. You started it, you finish it."

She looked at him hesitantly then sat down, a sort of funny expression on her face, as if she was trying not to smile. This surprised Mark a bit. "Okay, NOW you're bossy. I can't finish it. It's up to you."

"Up to me? Maureen this isn't easy. I just can't take you back and expect everything to be fine again. How do I know? How do I know that I have your trust?"

She left her seat and sat next to him. Mark scooted a bit into the booth and looked at her, expecting an answer. Instead, she laid a kiss on him, and he didn't know how to react.

"There… didn't you feel it?" she asked after she pulled away.

The kiss caught him off guard. Her warm touch brought back so many memories of them together. Of them being happy together. She really wanted this, he could feel it. Although their lips were apart, he could still feel hers on his. He remembered loving that. "Yeah… I did," he said. "I don't know… it may have been because you were my first love, though. Maureen… my first love." He had to smile. Everything came rushing back and he welcomed it gratefully. He hated to be so cliche, but deep down, he probably still cared about her.

"I want to ask you something," she said a bit more seriously. "It's none of my business but I'll ask it anyway."

Mark smirked. She had that jealous sort of tone suddenly. He kind of guessed what she might have been pondering. "Go. Ask."

"Did you sleep with her?"

He laughed. He was right. "No… no, she's too pure."

She burst into laughter. "Too pure? Look who's talking." She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. "I think someone spoilt your innocent mind, Marky…"

"I wonder who…?" He placed a hand on her face, and pulled her in for a kiss. For a moment, it didn't feel like he was in his own body. Their lips caressed one another. This felt right. Why it felt right he didn't know. Perhaps he didn't want to know. Perhaps the mystery of true love kept the flame alive. Mark began to move the kiss more passionately. He had figured it out now. The trick was keeping the flame burning. That's the game. That's the eternal flame.

He pulled her closer, and she laid one leg over his lap. He pressed his forehead against hers. "This is so wrong," he said. He knew it was. All his beliefs that he thought he wanted to pursue flew out the window. Everything was different now… better, maybe.

"Hmm… doesn't feel wrong to me," she said and kissed him again, but pulled away suddenly. "Actually, it does… wanna go somewhere a bit more… private?"

A few people were starting to stare and one person even leaned forward to get a better view. Damn them, but he tried to focus on Maureen. He gave her a mischievous look. It was like nothing changed, like they were picking up where they last left off. But that didn't seem right. He didn't want to feel any guilt or worry about this. He wanted to have a clean, long-lasting relationship. No lies. He didn't want to be the puppy of Maureen Johnson. Someone, give me a sign, he thought madly, that Maureen has really changed for the better. He didn't want to be Mr. Gullible. What about his pride?

"This is crazy," said Mark concerned. "We can't do this. I have my dignity. I'm not puddy."

"Okay." She got off his lap. "Then I'm gone." She grabbed her bag and started to leave again.

Mark panicked. "NO! Why do you do that?" He pulled her back down to his lap. She drives me mad, he thought wildly. He loved the rush, he loved this feeling.

She raised an amused eyebrow. "Marky… you did learn something from me after all, huh? I'm feeling very proud of myself…" She squealed, and Mark laughed.

"You're too irresistible." God, he meant that. He brought her chin toward him and kissed her again. "Man, I'm going to regret this in the morning."

"As long as you remember it this time." She smiled. "So umm… your place or mine?" She pulled him up to a standing position.

Mark smiled and felt a new confidence. "Mine." He added, "I'm afraid of Collins." He kissed her again. He couldn't help it. He just felt so wonderful, being back with her. They started to make their way through the café. "Lord, when he sees us together…"

She stopped. "Together? Are we together?" She sounded like an excited little girl who had just gotten a Barbie doll for her birthday. "You're giving me a second chance?"

"That all depends…." said Mark. He had just gotten the greatest idea, and would be thanking himself in the mirror the next morning.

"On what?" she asked.

"On how tonight goes…" he said slyly. He tried to plan out a blueprint of his loft in his mind. He knew exactly how he wanted this night to end.

She flashed him one of her seductive smiles. "Why don't we go and check it out then?"

He kissed her hard, and she wrapped her arms around him. "Okay… but it involves doing me a favor…"

"What?"

---------------

They arrived at Mark's building and couldn't keep their hands off one another. A crowbar couldn't tear them apart, and even if that were to be the case, Mark wouldn't let her go. Ever. He loved her so much. They kissed passionately, trying to make their way up the stairs. Now and then Mark would pin her to the wall and just caress her every bit of skin. She would always be the one to steer them back into the right direction.

It took them about fifteen minutes but they finally approached Mark's door. He pressed her against it and delved deeper into the kiss. He let his hands explore her body. She brought him closer.

"Mark…" she said breathlessly. "Shouldn't we… go inside?"

Mark didn't pause or anything but tried to unlock the door as best as he could. He finally got it to open and they stumbled into the loft. Mark pried himself away from her and locked the door. He quickly enveloped his arms around her, pressing his forehead against hers. He didn't want a minute to pass by without holding her.

"So what's this favor you wanted?" she asked with a dark tone in her voice. She was under his control for now, but he didn't know for how long. He may have had her for a little while, but the Maureen Johnson he always knew somehow found a way to take control in the end. At least for the time being… he could have his fun, and if all went well… who knows, he thought naughtily.

They entered his living room, Mark leading her by the hand. The place was a mess, but they were finally alone. No leering eyes, no peeping Toms. It was just the two of them. He pulled her arm and placed it around his neck, and she smiled. She began to wrap both her arms around him and Mark nibbled on her neck. She kissed him, and he savored her sweet taste. She bit his lip softly, and he pulled her even closer, their bodies against one another. She started to slip her hands beneath his shirt, her fingers drifting inside his jeans.

"Wait," said Mark pulling away unwillingly. He had almost forgotten about the favor. She kept persisting, her hands touching every bit of flesh under his clothes. Mark gently held her hands so they wouldn't go any further. She stopped reluctantly, and gave him a slightly irritated look, but smiled.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Shh…." He said and laid a soft kiss upon her hand before taking it and leading her into the bedroom. As he gazed at her, she grinned mischievously. He guided her to the doorway of his bedroom and leaned her against the door frame. He didn't kiss her but cornered her with both hands, and stared into her sinisterly. She stared back with the same gleam in her eyes, but slowly she began to feel his tension. She cowered back a bit, bashfully, and tried to look into his eyes. A small grin curled upon her lips and she slowly took off his glasses. She slid an arm of his eyeglasses between her teeth and bit into it sexily, innocently. His heart melted, and he grinned.

"Go inside and get comfortable. But remember the favor." He lowered his voice a bit, "I've got some work for you to do."

"Work?" she asked sort of surprised, but he gave her a look and she obliged. She winked at him before getting into the bedroom, and Mark beamed at her for a moment. He then walked to the hallway closet and opened it. He remembered his sister bringing old clothes for costumes he could use, and he also remembered scrounging through them before Maureen came over that night, with his camera.

Mark pulled the box out and carried it into the bedroom. He froze. Maureen stared at him evilly, lying on her side half-naked on his bed. Man, she was a goddess, her smooth, white skin rubbing against his tan-colored blankets, her brown hair curling softly along the form of her breasts, gently wrapped in a lavender bra. He couldn't help but notice that her bra and panty were a bit laced, and he smiled. What was he suppose to be doing? Oh yeah.

"I'm glad you're comfortable," he said setting the box in a corner.

She smiled. "Hmm… what are you doing?"

"I'm going to take some pictures of you," he said casually. He pulled out his 35mm camera from his closet, and snapped the flash on. "Do you mind changing for me?" He nodded to the box.

"You want me to change?" she asked.

Not really... "Tempting… but yes," he said. She pouted a bit, but climbed out of bed, and sauntered over to the box. Mark watched her as her slender legs walked her over to the corner and it drove him absolutely nuts. Why did everything she did have to happen in slow motion?

"What do you want me to wear?" she said bending down. Mark couldn't help but stare at her laced panty swathing over her backside, her hair drooping over her face. Mark snapped out of it and responded.

"There's a beige trench coat in there that belonged to my sister. And I think I saw a hat, a fedora, to match there somewhere. I think it belonged to my brother-in-law." Mark cleaned the lenses on his camera and focused it.

"It's kinda short," she said holding up the coat.

"She bought it when she was 15."

Maureen hung the coat around her arm and hunted for the hat. Mark watched her carefully as she found it and observed it for few seconds. She set the hat on her head. It was kind of loose on her, but it wasn't too bad.

"Pants, shirt?" she asked.

Mark smirked. "What are you talking about?" He looked at her teasingly, and she smiled, getting the hint. She slipped into the coat, which was also kind of loose on her but the length only went below her thigh. He smiled as she buttoned up.

"Is this how it's supposed to look?" she asked. He walked over to her and tightened the felt belt around her coat. He folded her collar out a bit, exposing a bit more of her. Taking her hand, he led her to the bed and she crawled on. She sat against the backboard of his bed, sitting on one leg. He observed her for a minute then came over to her again and fixed her hat. He tilted it to the side over one eye, and slanted her face down, her eyes leering at him waywardly.

"Beautiful," he said and clicked on a lamp. He turned off the main lights, and adjusted his camera to the right setting. Then, as if it came naturally, as if there was no stopping him, he clicked on. He must have taken a dozen pictures, without stopping to take a breath. He moved around, kept shooting, and she followed his gaze, her body moving along with him.

Pretty soon they were laughing and playing with each other as if they were little kids. But she did everything he told her to do. He watched as she changed into one of the nightgowns in the box. It was a river blue nightgown, satin, that split on both sides. It revealed much of her breasts, bringing it up slightly. Mark took some more pictures. He figured these would be his favorite.

"You know this is kind of kinky," commented Maureen as Mark changed film.

"I know," he said. "But I'm not selling them."

"I don't mean that," she said. "I mean it's kind of kinky that you got me wearing your sister's lingerie."

He grinned and walked over to the edge of the bed. She inched her way to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. She started fiddling with his shirt, slowly pulling it off. He leaned forward as she leisurely pulled him on top of her. His palm slid onto her leg, trailing up to her thigh and to her waist underneath the gown. She pulled him closer, urging him to go further. Mark grabbed the sheets with his other hand, grasping them, trying to resist.

"One more shot," he said pulling away breathlessly.

"Why?"

"One more." He said and stood up. He turned away pretending to play with his camera, but he was really trying to get his mind back on track. Okay Cohen, focus, you can get her under your control, he thought frenziedly. He told her to put on a white, collared dress shirt. It was men's size but she looked glamorous in it. He loved her in her underwear. God, he found that so attractive. He told her to only button it halfway. She had trouble with a few of the buttons. Chuckling a bit, he came over to her to help. He wrapped his arms around her and buttoned one, while he nibbled on her neck. He buttoned the rest halfway, and Maureen rubbed his arms soothingly. He moved his hands around her body, hugging her tighter. He steadily cupped her breasts, and kissed her from the side, bringing her nearer.

When he finally steered his mind back on the right train of thought, he pulled away and took a black tie from the box. He tied it freely around her collar so it wouldn't tighten around her. It drooped along her chest, and she laid back down. He took some more pictures.

Click. Last shot. He turned off his camera and set it on the table, taking off the flash and putting it in its pack.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Yup."

"What now?"

"Up to you," he said. His back was turn to her and he could only hear her husky voice ringing in his ear, making his heart turn. Suddenly, he felt his neck wrapped around by something. Maureen had put the tie around his neck and turned him around. He smiled at her.

"You dominatrix," he remarked.

"Maybe some other night," she said and tugged on it softly, directing him towards the bed. She took off the tie and pushed him gently onto the bed, and climbed on top of him. She kissed him passionately and Mark couldn't help but sink into her kiss, letting her take hold of him. Mark scooted up a bit so that they would occupy the whole bed, and she looked at him wickedly. She skulked between his legs and kissed his chest softly. Mark scrunched his brow, trying not to fall too deep into her touch. She made her way down his body to where his pants were. She quickly undid the button and opened his jeans slightly. She tickled his skin with her tongue near down his stomach. She bit into the zipper and pulled it down with her teeth. Mark felt a sudden urge through his body.

She pulled down his pants rapidly, and continued to have her way. She would bite his boxers a few times, teasing him endlessly. Finally, she almost tried pulling them off again with her teeth.

"Maureen," he muttered. She laughed a little and brought herself back to him, her face looking directly over his.

"I love you," she whispered, looking into his eyes.

Mark kissed her softly, but then it became more fervent. He slowly turned her over so that he was on top. He held her close, his mouth near her ear.

"Do as I say?" he asked seriously. He meant it more as a statement, but it slipped out as a question.

"Hmmm…" she said doubtfully. She closed her eyes. Mark was determined to take hold. He caressed her with his mouth along her neck, and groped her flesh as tenderly as possible. She moaned. She wanted him. He knew that there was nothing in the world that would keep her away from him. She was finally his after all these years of torture, of hiding, of depression.

"I'll never hurt you," he swore to her. She just looked at him sincerely, with a worried brow. She shook her head slightly and kissed him eagerly. He returned the kiss as he began to slip off her panty. She helped, kicking it off. She kept her arms around his neck as he edged his way down to her chest. He ripped the shirt off, tearing a few buttons, and tossed it aside. She slid her bra off, and Mark gently stroked her breasts with his tongue. Maureen grasped onto his skin, and dug her fingers into shoulders. He sucked on her nipples a bit and he heard her moan a bit more. He fondled with her flesh before bringing his face to hers.

"Maureen…" he wanted to say more, but instead she rubbed her leg against his sides, sliding his boxers down. He thrust himself inside her and she gasped. He explored deeper into her, moving up and down, holding her hand gently.

"Maureen-"

"Don't…" she breathed, her eyes shut. "Stop."

Mark tried to calm his tension. He slowly moved deeper in her, but questioned her say. "Stop?"

"No…" she whispered. She took a few breaths.

"No?" Mark repeated. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No… no, don't stop," she finally said, laughing a bit. "That's what I meant."

Mark grinned, and rocked back and forth as she groaned softly. She grabbed onto his shoulders, pleading for him to go on. He went in deeper and felt her tightening. He told her to relax, and she tried to loosen. He bit onto her lip, moving in and out, teasing her a bit. He did it slowly now, pulling himself out slightly.

"Don't Mark," she panted. "Please don't…"

Mark paused for a minute to watch her long for more. He could see it in her expression; he could hear it through her moans. For once, it seemed that she desired for him more than he wanted her. But he knew that as long as he lived, she would never love him to the amount he felt about her. She had changed his life, revealed a side of him he couldn't in front of other girls. She loved him. That's all he could ever ask for. The torrid passion didn't end there, but only had begun as Mark uttered those four words.

"Maureen, I love you."