Los Angeles, January 1988
Lisa had initially thought the one in front of her was another man entirely. The guy who had been standing next to her mother’s lawyer, John Branca, looked nothing like Michael Jackson. Well, he certainly didn’t look like the Michael Jackson she had imagined, when she had been told that he would be there too – as the groom’s best man.
To Lisa, taking part in Branca’s wedding meant absolutely nothing. Being a guest at an event she really didn’t feel like attending was something she had been forced to do. Her mother had been clear: she was an adult woman now, and she had to keep up appearances. No more wild days – enough of that. She had to start being part of the business. Part of the machine. Lisa had cringed but, eventually, had been unable to say no. It happened all the time, whenever her mother was involved.
Sitting at a small table with her drink, after the ceremony, wrapped in her beautiful dress and with her perfect hairdo and make-up, surrounded by people she didn’t know, Lisa felt like a fish out of water. Michael freaking Jackson had been the only highlight of the evening and now he was nowhere to be seen. He had probably run off to shoot some short film in a subway or something.
Great. Just great. Well, at least it had been fun to see him a bit out of his element, too.
She had imagined him as this self-confident superstar dressed in buckles and leather, or at least wearing a fedora and the glove, looking all shiny and out of this world. Instead, the groom’s best man was a very regular, very handsome young man in a classic black suit, black tie, and lilac shirt, well-mannered, a bit bashful and completely down-to-earth.
She had also noticed him throwing glances at her during the ceremony. She realized that he was trying to be subtle – without really being able to go unnoticed. They had shared some vague, awkward looks and, at one point, he had even let out the slightest smile. Then he had lowered his gaze.
Lisa wasn’t sure if the dude was trolling her or was just plain shy.
Anyway, after the ceremony she had lost sight of him and now there she was, all alone, feeling like the ugly duckling in a pond full of beautiful swans. Besides, not only she was bored to death, but she had also promised her mother that she would stay until the end – while she, Priscilla, chatted animatedly with several guests. It was all about business and public relations, for her mom. Lisa got that, she really did, but couldn’t understand why she had to be part of it. She had observed the very elegant, very classy, very sophisticated guests with a clinical look. She had downed a couple of drinks, forced herself to eat something, and had done her best to mind her own business, hoping to go unnoticed. If she was lucky, she’d be able to sneak out earlier than planned and go back to her circle of friends. And have a beer. Maybe two. After all, she was invisible and nobody was paying attention to her.
“Hey…”
The polite, deep voice startled her, and she turned her head.
What. The. Fuck.
“Hi.”
There he was, the superstar. Looking, at that very moment, like the cute guy next door.
Michael smiled.
“Can I keep you company for a minute?”
What the fuck for real!
Lisa recovered quickly, and her eyebrows sprung up. She pulled the chair next to her back, just a little.
“Sure. Be my guest.”
He sat down and unbuttoned his jacket, clearing his throat, then extended his hand.
“I’m Michael.”
She couldn’t help but snort, shaking his hand. The guy had a big, strong, warm hand, by the way.
“Yeah, I know. I’m Lisa.”
He chuckled and blinked.
“I know.”
She was not star-struck. She had been surrounded by celebrities throughout her entire life, she was Elvis’ daughter and had been scrutinized since she was born. If anything, she craved something ordinary. Normal people, typical day to day life, a normal future. Sitting next to Michael made her feel dizzy for a moment, but not in the way she would have imagined, although she had to admit that he was a bit intimidating. At one point in her life, even she had been kinda enamored with the idea of him, when she was a teenager and he was in his Thriller phase. What girl hadn’t looked at Michael with heart-shaped eyes, at that time?
And yet, the man sitting at her table now was another person entirely.
“I thought you had left,” Lisa said casually, and he seemed taken aback for a second. She suspected it was because he was not really used to be treated in a non-condescending way by people he had just met. Well, Mister Jackson was about to find out that not every woman’s panties would fly off just because he was standing there. At least, this woman’s panties weren’t going to.
He smiled again, very widely this time. He looked… pleased.
“I wanted to leave, believe me. I don’t really like this kind of events.” He fixed his tie and glanced around imperturbably. “I mean, I also wanted to be there for John, but I hoped to just pop by for the ceremony.”
“But here you are, instead.” Lisa grinned.
“Yeah. Here I am, indeed. Surrounded by strangers.” A waiter passer-by and Michael took a flute of champagne from his tray.
“Well, I’m a stranger too, so why are you keeping me company?”
Michael took a sip of his drink and studied her, his brow furrowing.
“What do you mean, a stranger? We’ve met before.”
Lisa blinked. What did he mean, they had met before? Did he consider the glances they had exchanged during the wedding ceremony as “meeting”? It couldn’t be.
“We did?”
“Yeah,” he narrowed his deep, dark eyes. “But you don’t remember, do you?”
She shook her head.
“I am sorry. I really don’t.”
Michael shrugged.
“It’s OK. You were just a little girl.” Noticing that she was waiting for him to clarify his statement, he chuckled. “You were, I think, six or seven when we met. You came to our show… a Jackson 5 show in Las Vegas, I believe. Your dad took you backstage afterward and, ah… yeah, we met. Briefly.”
His voice was gentle, and he spoke with a soft smile on his lips. A smile that reached his eyes. That, coupled with the mention of her father, melted something into Lisa’s heart and a vague, dreamlike flashback ran through her mind. A dressing room. Her dad crouched down, by her side, smiling at her, tilting his head toward those five young brothers chatting and laughing after their fantastic performance on stage. Her dad’s blue eyes. And then, a quick vision of Michael’s dark eyes. Of his smile, as he waved at her.
“Yeah… I think I do have some kind of remembrance of that night… However small.”
Michael smiled again and the flashback intensified. Or maybe it was just her imagination.
“I’m glad you do.”
“How did you recognize me?”
This time he laughed, heartily and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. His laugh was crystalline, contagious.
“Are you kidding me? You look just like him. Like your dad.”
Yeah. She had heard that, a lot. And yet it felt strange to imagine that not only this megastar remembered that quick encounter when they were both just kids, but that he had also been able to recognize her face in the crowd, during a wedding.
“You look… different, though.” She noticed his hesitant look and shook her head. “I mean, different from the way you appear on TV, or in the magazines.” She didn’t want him to think that she meant he was somehow weird or odd, even though that had been her biased opinion, before seeing him at the ceremony. A belief that was quickly changing just by talking to him.
“That’s because they love to present a warped image of who I really am.”
“Yeah, I get that. But that’s not what I meant. You just look… different when you’re on stage. By the way, congratulations on your tour. I heard you’re doing great.”
He lowered his gaze, bashfully.
“Yeah, I really can’t complain. Thank you”.
“So…” Lisa tapped her fingers on the table, nervously. “Why aren’t you here with your girlfriend?”
“My girlfriend?” Michael seemed confused.
“Yeah. Brooke Shields.”
She didn’t even know why she was asking that. Not that she really cared. She had a boyfriend – Danny – whom she loved.
“She’s not my girlfriend. I mean… It’s not – we’re just very good friends.” He shifted in his chair, a bit uneasily, and Lisa nodded, giving him a suggestive look and taking a sip of her drink.
“I see…”
“You see what?” His cheeks on fire, he chuckled.
“Well,” Lisa tilted her head, “I guess it’s just a publicity stunt then, right? I mean… If the tabloids think that you two are a couple while you’re just good friends, I suppose you guys have just been doing something that benefits you both.”
“I don’t know if I would put it that way, honestly. I mean, Brooke and I are close for real. We don’t care what the press says.”
She didn’t seem to pay attention to his words.
“Let me tell you, Michael. If that’s the case, you don’t really need Brooke Shields for publicity. You’re on top of the world. She, on the other hand… I mean, what has she done lately except for being photographed with you?”
Wow. Diplomacy wasn’t one of girlfriend’s best qualities. He, on the other hand, was way better in that department…
“I don’t think Brooke needs me to draw anybody’s attention, honestly.”
She made a face.
“Oh, please.”
“She’s beautiful and amazing, and I love having her by my side.”
“Like a prop?”
His eyebrows sprung up.
“What? No! Not at all. I would never use her. And neither would she.”
“Alright. Fair enough. You guys are just playing the part of the fairytale couple. But you’re not into her ‘like that.’ I totally get that.” She sipped her champagne. “To each his own, I guess.”
Fair enough, my ass. Michael had a feeling that Lisa had just gotten it all wrong, and was probably thinking that he didn’t like girls. But since he now hoped to have the chance to see the very blunt, very outspoken, witty and very sexy Presley girl again, perhaps in a more private and intimate setting, it was best to clarify things quickly. Fuck diplomacy!
“OK, look… I know what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?” She looked genuinely amused.
“I know you think I’m gay. But I’m not, and honestly, I am starting to get tired of people thinking that I am.”
“I never said you were gay, Michael,” Lisa giggled, “And I wouldn’t see the problem, even if you were.”
He shifted in his chair again, uneasily. This was awkward…
“No, I’m not saying that it would be a problem – it’s just… I mean, I know they love to spread all kinds of rumors about me.”
“Yeah well, that’s what tabloids do with celebrities,” Lisa leaned closer to him. “They do it for the money,” she whispered, conspiratorially. She was having so much fun at his expense.
“Well, screw them. Lisa… You probably have heard a lot of things about me. But most of it isn’t even true. And it’s important for me to clarify that whenever I meet someone I’m interested in.”
His choice of words surprised her.
“Wow, that was… quite intense. You’re telling me you’re interested in me?”
“Yeah. I mean, I feel like we have so many things in common, and I’d love for us to talk more. Even though I believe I just made a fool of myself.”
“You haven’t.” She touched his arm, very lightly, “If anything, you managed to make my evening more entertaining than I initially thought.”
“Yeah?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she burst out laughing. He was silly… But in a funny way. “Alright then… So, what do you think about having a drink together, sometimes?”
“We are having a drink.”
He tilted his head and gave her a lopsided smirk.
“I mean… some other times.”
“I have a boyfriend, Michael,” Lisa stated, flatly.
“Oh.” Strangely enough, this time he didn’t look uncomfortable at all. “Alright. But are you happy with him?”
“Are you hitting on me now?” She squinted her eyes and he laughed, again.
“Totally.”
She sighed, holding his gaze. She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.
“I think I am, yeah.”
“Cool.”
“But sure, we can have a drink, sometimes. As friends. If you want.”
Michael seemed to ponder over her words for a second.
“As a friend. Sure. Why not?” He shrugged.
“I imagine this must be unusual for you. You probably have women throwing themselves at you and trying to get into your pants all the time.”
He scrunched his face in a very endearing way.
“Not really. But I can use a friend, for sure.”
“I totally believe in friendship between men and women,” Lisa stated, matter-of-factly.
“Oh yeah, me too.” He nodded his head. “You’re preaching to the converted. Definitely”.
Lisa watched him as he held baby Eissa in his arms, his eyes shining. The newborn rested his chubby cheek on Michael’s chest, cooing and babbling, and he gently kissed the top of his head, rubbing his back. It was the first time Michael saw his nephew and Lisa noticed, for the millionth time, what a natural parent he was. Such a great daddy. And she had to admit, his qualities as a caretaker had been showing with her, too, as of late.
“Don’t scratch him with that beard,” Janet laughed.
“Whatcha talking about? My beard is very soft… right, Lisa?” Michael winked at her and she smiled, shaking her head.
Janet’s eyes kept moving from his baby boy to her big brother, back and forth, as if she couldn’t believe they were both really there. Well, the location and situation were, indeed, a bit peculiar – to say the least.
After having been discharged from the hospital, and having been pampered at Priscilla’s for a few days, Lisa had been swept away by her mother’s sudden desire to throw a party with “a few, carefully selected guests.” Those had been her exact words. Lisa had stared at her, a puzzled expression on her face, wondering if her mother’s uncharacteristic behavior was caused by a sudden and precocious senile dementia or a genuine and possibly permanent change in her attitude. Comfortably sitting in a recliner, she had felt Michael’s hand tighten his grip on her shoulder, just a little bit, and she had looked up at him. The same baffled expression was painted over his face.
Priscilla had explained that after the “scare,” she felt the need to celebrate both Lisa’s recovery and “her newly found serenity,” as she had put it. Once again, Lisa had glanced up at Michael and, this time, he looked even more appalled. Lisa had chuckled silently. He was so cute when something managed to stupefy him – which was rare.
“Mother, there really is no need to…” She had tried to say.
“Oh yes, my dear. There is. Things are finally getting better for you, sweetheart. Finally! After almost giving me a heart attack with your accident, I am starting to realize that maybe I won’t have to check you into an asylum before you turn fifty. Which is great news.”
“Geez… thanks for the maybe,” Lisa had replied.
“Yeah, such a vote of confidence…” Michael had mumbled under his breath, rubbing Lisa’s shoulder.
Trying to make her change her mind had been pointless. Priscilla had managed to organize a very private and quiet party where, amazingly, people who knew about Michael and guests who didn’t, had been able to share the same space without any drama.
At first, Lisa had been very, very worried and she had openly spoken to Michael about her doubts. She had started seeing a psychologist and a counselor, after coming to terms with the fact that she indeed needed professional help to deal with the emotional pain and stress that had caused her breakdown. Their first advice had been to try and be more talkative about her fears.
“Michael… What if some of us say something we shouldn’t? What if someone calls you by your real name? What if some of them get emotional or whatnot?”
She was sitting on the bed, her hair still wet, after Michael had helped her take a long bubble bath which had included a very gratifying and kinda stimulating back massage.
Leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets, Michael had bitten his lips nervously.
“I know…” He had mumbled, glancing up at her. “But I don’t think we should worry about that. I mean… MJ has been gone for quite some time, Lise… It’s not that they’re automatically gonna think about him if only they hear the word ‘Michael’… right?”
She had looked at him condescendingly.
“Are you for real? You don’t think it would sound a bit suspicious, considering that MJ is my ex-husband and my ex-lover?”
“Well, Michael is also the name of your fourth husband,” he had pointed out.
“Yeah, because he’s the one who would immediately pop up in everyone’s mind,” she had replied sarcastically. “By the way, why are you referring to yourself in the third person?”
Michael had giggled.
“Because he’s no longer who I am. MJ is a public persona. And he’s gone.” He had walked over to her and had sat on the bed, by her side. He had turned to her and pushed a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “Mike, on the other hand, is still very much alive… and very much in love with you.”
“You’re a sweet talker, baby, but you know this is risky.”
Lisa did have a point, but he was way more worried about her wellbeing. As a matter of fact, he was pretty sure none of the few people who knew about his true identity were going to behave inappropriately or suspiciously. But his priority was Lisa. While she was still at the hospital, Michael had the luxury to sneak out from time to time and had even managed to meet with his children and parents twice. But a party was a completely different environment: so many people, so much stress, and Lisa was still recovering, she was still so very fragile, both from a physical and an emotional point of view.
“Babe, if you’re not up to it I can try and convince your mom to stop the circus.”
Her eyes had widened, and she had looked at him with a horrified expression on her face.
“You think it’s gonna be a circus?”
“No, baby. That’s not what I meant. But I don’t want you to get all worked up for nothing.” He had watched her quietly, for a moment. “You still gotta rest.”
“I am much better now,” she had tried to object, and he had immediately scooted closer, kissing her cheek.
“Yes, you are. But that doesn’t mean you gotta overdo. You’re supposed to be as serene as you can, remember?”
She had just sighed, lowering her head.
“So, if you don’t feel like doing it, I sure ain’t putting up with your mom’s bizarre ideas either. I mean, she’s nice… well, nicer… now, but maybe a party’s a little too much.”
“She got scared, Mike,” Lisa had rubbed her temples. “That’s her way to cope with it. That’s all. Let’s admit it… I fucking scared the daylights out of you all. I’ve been totally irresponsible.”
He had gently stroked her face with the back of his fingers.
“Lise, you were not feeling well. You’ve been going through so much. You didn’t want to hurt anyone.”
“I thought I could control it.”
“Yeah. I know the feeling… remember?”
Lisa had turned to look at him, to truly watch him. He was right. He, too, had thought he could control his own demons and he had almost gotten killed in the process. Her heart sliced open, Lisa had willed herself to be strong, to not let herself get devoured by the darkness that still resided somewhere, within her. In the yellowish light of the nightlamp, Michael was as gorgeous as he had always been in her eyes. She had traced the side of his face with her fingertips – his temple, cheekbone, cheek, chin. Then she had gently pulled him closer and had kissed him. The kiss, gentle and innocent at first, had suddenly turned deeper and more passionate and, eventually, he had pulled back.
“Lise… please. Don’t do this…” He had watched her with pleading eyes. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that, girl.”
Doctor Collins had been very clear. They had to take it easy. Lisa was better but not fully recovered yet. And Collins wanted to be sure that her hips and back were completely healed before giving her the green light to resume some “intimate activities” involving a certain amount of “physical demands.” After all, Lisa was not twenty-five anymore.
“Mike, it’s not that he said that we can’t kiss.”
“Well, I know, but I can’t live with a permanent hard-on, now, can I?” He had raised his eyebrows suggestively and Lisa’s gaze had fallen on his crotch. Oh, how super-sensitive her man was. She had been unable to avoid a chuckle even though she, herself, missed him so much.
“Yeah, you laugh, woman…” He had stood up and walked back to the bathroom, all the while unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it onto a chair carelessly. “You keep laughing at me. I’mma take a cold shower in the meantime.”
“What about a little striptease for your lady?” Lisa had teased him.
“No. Because you’re mean”, he had mumbled, shaking his head, before closing the bathroom door behind his back.
That time, she had laughed for real.
Now they were in Priscilla’s library, where they had managed to steal some private minutes with Michael’s family. Behind the closed door, the party was still going on as if nothing happened.
Lisa sat on the small Chesterfield sofa, next to Katherine who held her hand in hers, feeling both anchored to the present and stuck somewhere in the past. The entire situation had quite a dreamlike taste, and for a second she wondered if her brain was still malfunctioning. Maybe the swelling hadn’t subsided, after all.
She glanced at Katherine, who was staring at her son with barely repressed tears in her eyes, and then at Joseph, who sat down at the elegant, antique writing desk, one hand clasping his cane and that unreadable blue gaze apparently disenchanted and remote, moving from his son to his daughter, to his younger nephew. And yet he was affected, Lisa could tell. After 2009, Joseph Jackson had suddenly become much older, very quickly.
“This…” Katherine whispered in Lisa’s ear. “All of this is amazing, Lisa Marie. For the first time in years, my heart is finally at peace. Look at him…. Look at my son. Look how happy he is, finally. And you – honey, you look good too. It’s incredible.”
Lisa had swallowed, trying hard to keep her emotions in check. She already felt overwhelmed just by seeing how Katherine reacted to Michael’s presence. Although he had told Lisa that he had already had the chance to see her parents, while she was still in a coma, Katherine acted as if having the possibility to spend some more time with her beloved son was a miracle. And maybe she was right.
Theoretically, Michael couldn’t be in the States, and Lisa still didn’t like that he had thrown caution to the wind, deciding to leave Scotland just to be at her bedside. But at least he had the chance to spend some time with his parents. At this point in their lives, Kate and Joe were too old to travel all over the world, and it was possible that they had resigned themselves to the fact that they were never going to see Michael in person again. They could call him on the phone and even Skype with him, but being in the same room with him… Well, that was an entirely different experience. Michael’s kids, on the other hand, could not attend the party because they were in Switzerland – busy with their philanthropic work. He hadn’t even been upset. If anything, he was proud of what they were doing.
Fifteen minutes earlier, when he had stepped into the library, Katherine had immediately stood up and had opened her arms, a look of overwhelming emotion painted on her face. Wordlessly, Michael had walked over to her, hugging her and they had stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other, his face buried in the crook of her neck. When he had pulled back, Katherine had cupped his face and had stared at him.
“You look good, Michael,” she had said, her voice soft albeit a bit strained. “Much better than last week. Have you been taking care of yourself like I told you to do?”
She had caressed his bearded cheeks as if he was nothing but a kid, and he had blinked.
“Yes, Mother,” he had replied, under his breath. He was incredibly moved – Michael’s adoration for his mother had always been a constant in his life. Blindly, he had reached over and had grabbed his father’s arm, then had turned to look at him.
“Hello, Joseph.”
“Hello, son. Let me tell you how proud I am of you.”
For a moment, Michael had looked taken aback by his father’s words.
Lisa hadn’t been surprised to discover that both Michael’s parents knew the truth about their son. It was only fair and it made total sense. She still was not sure Janet was the only sibling to be in the loop, but Michael preferred not to talk about the matter, and she had decided not to push him. He had been adamant: the less Lisa knew, the better it would be. However, she and Michael had eventually decided to tell Benjamin the truth.
It had happened a couple of days earlier. After a long discussion, they had realized that there was no reason why Riley had to be aware of the situation while Ben couldn’t. And that was why they had asked him to meet them both, at Priscilla’s.
Benjamin Storm didn’t suspect anything at all. As a matter of fact, he was clueless. Lisa thought it was because he was still very little when she and Michael were together, and maybe his memories of his former stepfather were not as rooted as Riley’s. Therefore, she didn’t expect any particular reaction from her younger son, except for a genuine surprise.
Boy, had she been wrong.
The moment they had told him who Ethan Murphy really was, his huge blue eyes had widened, and he had blinked, trying hard to understand what the hell was going on, and most of all make sense of it.
“But… how?” He had asked, under his breath. Then he had frowned. “Is this a prank, mom? Are you guys fu- …playing a joke on me?”
“No, Ben,” Lisa had said, very calmly. “We’re not joking at all.”
His head had quickly turned to Michael, who was leaning quietly against the kitchen counter.
“Michael…? Mickey? Is it really you?” Ben had murmured, in an incredulous tone.
Michael had smiled at him.
“Yes,” he had replied.
“And you’re not… dead.”
“No.” His smile had broadened and he had shaken his head.
Benjamin was stunned. He had just stayed there for a minute or two, unable to move, taking several deep breaths. Then he had suddenly walked over to Michael and had stared at him in the eyes, at a short distance from his face. Michael’s eyebrows had sprung up.
“Fuck. It’s really you.” Ben had finally muttered, as hit by some unexpected epiphany. A second later, his eyes had welled up and a set of tears has streamed down his cheeks. His bottom lip had started to quiver and Michael had seen, in that young man’s face, the little kid that Ben had once been. For a moment, Lisa’s adult son was back at being a very surprised, very emotional five-year-old.
Ben had literally thrown himself into Michael’s arms, and Michael had been glad he was leaning against the kitchen counter because the impact had been almost violent in its urgency. His body was strong and well-built, but his former stepson wasn’t little or a lightweight. Then Ben has started bawling like a little kid, his forehead pressed against Michael’s chest, his tears soaking up his shirt. A little flustered by that intense reaction, Michael had thrown Lisa a worried glance.
“He’s just sensitive,” she had mouthed, but he could tell that she was just as surprised.
Michael had gently patted Benjamin’s back and had rested his other hand on his head, letting him cry as much as he needed. He had smiled, once again feeling so very loved by that family that he had always considered as dear and close as his own. Loneliness was no longer part of his world.
“Here… Lisa… Look at him. Isn’t he just beautiful?”
Very slowly, Michael sat down on the couch, still holding baby Eissa in his arms, gently rocking him and humming at him.
Lisa touched the newborn’s warm head and leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his sparse hair.
“He’s gorgeous.”
“Look, I can use some rest, so you can hold him for a while if you want.” Janet smiled at Lisa and crouched down by the couch, her hand on the armrest, studying her. “You up to it?”
“Of course… gimme that lil’ bundle of joy, Michael.”
Lisa was not at her best, but certainly was strong enough to hold a four-month-old baby.
“I’m so glad you’re OK, Lisa,” Janet said in her soft voice, “And I am so happy to be here, even though I was… ah, surprised when your mother called us.”
Lisa took Eissa from Michael’s arms and carefully positioned him against her own chest.
“Yes, I can imagine. Apparently, this stage of our lives is full of surprises… for everyone.” She stroked the baby’s back and smiled.
She felt Michael’s arm around her shoulders and turned her head, meeting him halfway, their lips touching in a quick, sweet kiss. They were entirely in sync, mentally and emotionally connected, just like they had been for such a long time in their lives. The mental picture hit her with the force of a battering ram, and something into her mind stilled the frame and put it into the mental archive of what would forever be remembered as a very poignant moment in her existence. She and Michael, sitting on a sofa, a newborn baby in their arms. Surrounded by family, sharing a kiss. Feeling complete. That was what should have happened all along. That was what too many external forces, but also their childish struggles and constant tugs-of-war and their stubborn pride had prevented from happening. Too late, too late.
The battering ram smashed the door open, and the memory appeared before Lisa’s eyes with the vibrant colors and sounds of a movie in Dolby Surround. A precious moment, something she thought she had forgotten, and that she had tried so hard to bury under a pile of denial for so many years, was blooming again. Like a flower cracking the asphalt open.
Casa de Campo, Dominican Republic – May 26th, 1994
“Look at me.”
His voice was breathless, raspy.
Lisa could barely open her eyes, swamped as she was by the barrage of sensations crashing in waves all over her body. A mixture of pain and pleasure, of love and excitement, lust and passion that made her cells tingle, her nerve endings burn, her entire soul disintegrate. She was ablaze.
“Look at me.”
Michael panted, and his movements slowed down, his hips moving just slightly, and yet she could feel each and every shallow thrust he was giving her. She finally glanced up at him and, all the while, her hands glided down the sweaty skin of his back. Her fingers entwined right above his ass, and she exhaled a shaky breath.
“Are you with me, girl?”
He was her husband. It was the very first time Michael made love to her as her husband and the realization struck Lisa abruptly, and she blinked.
“Yeah…” She whispered, her breath uneven. She smiled and caressed his face – a very unexpected and sweet gesture in the fury that their raw and rough lovemaking had been until then.
“Hi…” She said, still smiling.
Michael’s movements stilled, and he beamed back at her, his eyes softening.
“Hi, gorgeous…”
“You’re my husband…” Lisa let her fingers trace the contour of his face, loving the feeling of him sweating against her skin, loving his scorching hot body weighing down on her, his messy hair tickling her shoulders.
“I certainly am…” Michael’s smile got wider, and his entire face lit up.
She pulled him down and kissed him until she felt his upper body relax over hers. His penis was still twitching and throbbing inside of her, in that silent Morse code letting her know that he was far from done.
“I can’t believe we really did it,” she whispered in between kisses.
“Oh, I can.” He leaned up on his elbow to better to focus on her face. “I totally married the most beautiful girl in the world. Just like I wanted to do.”
Lisa rolled her eyes and laughed, and he winced at the vibrations reverberating in the most sensitive part of his body. Oh, his dick was on fire. But sure as hell he couldn’t interrupt his wife while she looked like she was having some sort of mystical revelation.
“You’re so fucking cheesy… But I guess I’ll have to put up with that too, from now on, uhm?” She made a face and fisted his hair, on the back of his head.
“What – you don’t believe me? You gotta know that I had my eyes on you since I first saw you at Branca’s wedding.”
“Get the fuck out of here…”
“No, I am serious.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Are you serious for real? I mean, I know you love planning everything in advance but… come on…”
“I am very serious…” His hips pushed forward and further into her, making her gasp. “As serious as… this.” He moved again, deep enough to reach end, and Lisa’s torso arched. He bent his head and gently lapped at her nipple, then stilled his movements once again.
She moaned in frustration and glared at him.
“No, Michael, you’re not serious. You’re cruel. You’re torturing me and holding my orgasm hostage. I realize now that I’ve married Bluebeard, who’s probably going to beat me to death with his huge… thick…”
He giggled, and she rotated and undulated her hips.
“…And very hard… club.”
“Lise!”
He started to laugh for real, but all the while resumed the languid motions inside of her. Slow, deep, controlled strokes. She swallowed and held onto his neck.
“Do you have any other wives buried somewhere in your beautiful castle, Bluebeard?”
He shook his head and bit his lip, and she could tell that he was trying hard to keep control over himself. His thrusts intensified.
“No… The only wife I want is right here with me… And I plan to keep her with me for a very long time.”
Once again, she pulled him down and kissed him, her tongue sliding into his mouth. She moaned and gasped again as he gave her a series of deeper, slower strokes.
“Gosh, we’re gonna be so happy, Lise…”
“Yeah…” Their foreheads touched as they kept moving together.
“You, me, and our babies… we’re gonna have a such a beautiful family…”
“…I love you so fucking much, Mike…”
“I love you too, baby girl.”
“Alright… stop with the mushy stuff, champ. Please, focus on what you were doing…”
Her nails scraped his back and he grunted, giving her a solid thrust and making her whimper.
“Thank you… I’m not great at multitasking.”
They resumed their dance and their rhythm increased, both in depth and speed.
“There you go, Mike… hit that thing. Oh yeah… Bring it home.”
Michael saw the playful glint in Lisa’s glazed over eyes and giggled, breathlessly.
“God… I fucking love you for real, girl.”
When she emerged from the bathroom he was lying in bed, reading a book. He glanced at her and cleared his throat, noticing her beautiful, virginal white nightgown.
“Nope.”
Lisa chuckled.
“Nope, what?”
“I’m gonna finish this chapter, and then we’re gonna snuggle and fall asleep together.”
Still laughing lowly, Lisa sat down on her side of the bed. She scooted closer to Michael and closed the book he was holding, gently letting it fall on the plush carpet.
“What are you doing?”
He sounded very serious, but as she started caressing his chest, she could feel the twitch of his muscles under her fingertips.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
He gave her a lopsided smirk.
“Honestly?”
“Yeah, honestly.”
“Looks like you’re being a little cocktease.”
Lisa burst out laughing and he gave her one of his killer smiles. The kind of smile she had never been able to resist. He was joking, but at the same time she knew he had also been sexually unfulfilled for several weeks. Of course, it was not her fault. It was just that they were not used to spend so much time together without having the chance of making love. They were both frustrated.
“Mike?”
“Yes, Lise?”
She scooted even closer and leaned over, kissing his lips slowly and deliberately, her tongue grazing his bottom lip and asking for access. Access that was immediately granted.
“I miss you,” she said, pulling back and turning serious.
“I miss you too, baby, and I can’t wait for you to be finally better.”
Her hand slid down, reaching his lower abdomen and brushing over the waistband of his pajama pants.
“I am better… In fact, I feel good enough to…” She kissed him again, languidly, her hand dipping even lower and starting to touch him where he painfully needed her. “…You know…”
Michael’s hand covered hers, stilling her movements.
“Lise. I don’t want you to get hurt. Your back is still sore, your hips were badly bruised and…”
“Keyword here being ‘were’… past tense.” Her kisses descended onto his neck. Soft, open-mouthed, warm kisses and he rolled his eyes, exhaling a breath.
“Don’t tempt me, woman. I am incorruptible anyway.”
Her laughter tickled his skin, and he shivered in anticipation. Her hand started to move on his crotch, gently stroking him through the soft cotton of his jammies.
“Oh yeah… I can see just how honorable your cock is…”
Well, she did have a point there. His rebellious penis had taken about ten seconds to get corrupted to the core. This time he turned his head slightly and found her lips, kissing her deeply, slowly.
“Baby… I truly, truly want you but… we can’t. We gotta wait for another couple of days and make sure you’re OK.”
“Fuck waiting…”
Feisty woman!
Her other hand grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him into her kiss, once again and more aggressively this time.
“Don’t you get it, Mike?” She panted against his lips. “I need to feel a little more like myself again. And I need to feel like a woman… like your woman, again. You’re a great caretaker, you’re amazing, really… but I don’t want this relationship to be just about this…”
“This what?” His voice was raspy. His determination was slowly slipping away, and now his hand on his steel was moving in sync with Lisa’s. He slowly removed his reading glasses and tossed them on the nightstand, kissing her again.
Lisa broke the kiss and pulled back, her eyes focusing on his face.
“Think about it…” She murmured, weighing her words carefully. “Perhaps I’m not made of glass after all. Perhaps I’m made of something stronger. Just like you are.”
Michael swallowed and licked his lips, knowing precisely what she meant. They had to stop living in fear. Both of them.
“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, his voice low.
She shook her head.
“No… not now. Right now, all I wanna do is being the one taking care of you, for once.” Her hand resumed her exploration, finding his hot skin underneath the fabric of his pants. His eyes fluttered closed and, instinctively, his hips pushed up and into her touch. “I can tell you’re stressed out, baby… You need to… release some of this tension.”
She started stroking him, slowly but firmly, feeling liquid heat run through her own body, reaching her in between her legs. “And I know we can’t really make love until the doctor gives us the green light… but in the meantime…” She kissed him again, her other hand pushing his white t-shirt up, helping him take it off. “In the meantime… I wanna make you feel good… and I want you to make me feel good… God, I want you so much, Mike…”
She took his hand and pressed it against her own breast, holding it there. Indolently, Michael opened his eyes.
“What can I do, baby?” He whispered, stroking her nipple through the nightgown. “I do want to make you feel good…”
Lisa smiled.
“Well, to be completely honest, I’d love for you to bend me over a bread rack and pound me into shape… or drill me against a wall…”
“Oh my gosh, Lise!” He started to giggle, shaking his head, and her smile broadened.
“But I guess we can’t…” She pouted, playfully. “Not for now, at least…”
She moved closer and her voice became a whisper in his ear. “But you can touch me… And you can eat me out if you want… And you can make me forget my name… Just like you always do when you make me come… again… and again… and again… And I can do the same to you…. Will you let me make you come, big boy?” Her grip on his cock intensified, and so did her strokes. “I can touch you… and finish you off like this… Or I can go down on you, and take you into my mouth… like the good girl that I am.”
He let out a grunt.
“What do you say, Mike, uhm? Am I still your good girl?” Another set of kisses on his ear, and he was on fire, emergency brakes disintegrated, and there was no turning back. “What would you say if I asked you to go down on me right now? Would you really say no?”
A cocktease, indeed! This was torture. The words he was hearing deserved to be included in the official list of threats to a man’s mental sanity. How he loved her. How in love he was, with this woman.
He gently pushed her back and made her lie down, paying attention to not weigh on her body, and started to worship her slowly, languidly, with his hands and mouth. He was sure he wasn’t going to last very long, but hey, he could try. He carefully removed her nightgown and got rid of his own pants and made himself comfortable, lying down by her side. Then he disappeared under the sheets, his beard tickling Lisa’s inner thighs, making her giggle.
She put both hands on his head and pulled him closer.
Oh yeah. His baby was back.
Chapter song
