Eraser Blue (2 page)

The train rushed to a stop in front of her.  She climbed aboard and took a seat in the near-empty carriage.  Reality slapping her in the face again at the sight of a man and woman huddled together a few feet away.  They were whispering to each other, smiling at one another.  They were sweet.  Mackenzie had never had sweet.  She’d always been in relaxed, casual, sometimes even business like arrangements.  Not that she was a hooker or anything, she was just never really invested.  Her past relationships had always been ones of convenience or the quick and casual hook-up variety.  She’d never been in love, it eluded her.  The couple on the train were clearly in love.  She noticed they both wore wedding rings, so they were obviously married. 
To each other?
  She thought with a dry smile,
maybe not
.  She’d seen enough ‘affairs’ in her life to know that might not be the case.

Marriage was a sham.  Since she was little and lived through her parents’ divorce, subsequent remarrying and second divorces, she’d never understood the point of getting married.  It was just a worthless piece of paper.  She wasn’t the marrying kind, nor was she the kind to get involved with a married man, even though that opportunity came up more than she would have liked.  She couldn’t see that future for herself, marriage... or kids, for that matter.

Even though it wasn’t something she had envisioned previously, she had imagined what it would be like to be with
him
this past week.

It’s typical, I’d pick the least likely candidate to fixate on.  “No repeats.”  Why on earth did he say he was going to take me home then?  Why did he come back?

The train pulled into Union Station, she quickly exited the carriage and headed for the street.  She was tired and ready for bed.  Luckily her apartment was only a couple of blocks from there.

Once she’d made it inside her warm home, she was quick to remove her jacket, shoes, shirt and skirt.  Mackenzie went to the kitchen dressed in her black bra and panties set with matching black garters and stockings.  She was a fan of sexy lingerie and had specifically chosen her undergarments with Sir in mind, with the hope that he would return at his usual Friday night time and perhaps take her home again.  She was still perplexed. 
Why did he come so late and then leave without me?

God, what could we be doing right now if he did take me home?

She went to the refrigerator and grabbed a cold bottle of water, before walking down the hall to her bedroom.  She took a gulp, placed it on the dresser and then stretched out on top of her bed.  She stared at the ceiling and contemplated seeing him again, feeling him again.  She ran her fingertips lightly down her chest, over her breast and to her stomach.  She wanted it to be Sir’s hands on her, so badly.  She closed her eyes and saw his face.

“Mackenzie.”
 

She’d loved the sound of her name from his lips.  Her fingers trailed lower, to the edge of her panties
.  It wasn’t the same, her fingers felt too much like her own.  She stilled her hand and huffed in frustration, blowing some stray hairs from her face.

She sat up and reached into her bedside drawer, pulling out her
favorite vibrator.  That’s when she spotted a pair of long, black lace gloves.  She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to buy them a couple of weeks ago, it’s not like she had anywhere to wear them, but she sure did love the look of them.  She loved the feel of them too. 
Why not?
Mackenzie thought before putting them on.

She lay back down, closed her eyes, and ran her fingers over her skin once more.  Now it felt different, not like her own hands at all.  It made it easier to imagine Sir was with her.  The lace of the gloves went all the way past her elbows, making her feel restricted
, reminding her she liked that feeling.  Putting one arm above her head she imagined that it was tied by Sir.  His almost black eyes appeared behind her lids as she felt his lips press against hers.  She ran her other gloved hand over her body again before picking up her toy, swiping her panties to the side, and inserting it.  She was already very wet with desire.  She moaned as she plunged it deeply and switched it on.  The butterfly worked its magic.  Mackenzie smiled when she remembered Sir calling her papillon – the French word for butterfly. 
I wonder what he would think if he knew what I was doing right now…

She dipped and twisted the vibrator in and out of her body, imagining it was Sir.  She couldn’t hold her hand above her head any longer, she needed his hands on her.  She squeezed her own throat before trailing her hand down her chest and inside her bra.  The gloved fingertips felt divine as she squeezed her nipple tightly and writhed on the bed.  Lifting her hips, she met his hard thrust ferociously, calling out, “Sir!”

As her shallow breathing evened out she started to feel sleepy.  Sated.  Not as much as she could have been if it had been the real man with her, but at least she had the memories.

Mackenzie was more than a little annoyed at being wide awake, bright and early the next morning.  After falling asleep at around three a.m. she had woken as the sun came up and tossed and turned for at least an hour, going over what had happened. 
Why did he come back?  Would he be back again? 

And who the hell
is
he?

Eventually she gave up on sleep and, with a huff, pulled back the duvet.  Deciding to work off some frustration by going for a run, she wasted no time pulling on her running gear, popping in her earphones and strapping her iPod to her bicep.  She tied her long hair into a pony tail before she left.

The cold air hit her when she exited the building.  She did a few stretches before launching into an even paced jog, heading toward Grant Park.  She’d specifically compiled her running playlist to build in tempo, to encourage her to push harder.  By the time she was up to Eraser (her latest addition to the list) she was in a full sprint – running faster than the tempo required. 
Trying to outrun my demons.

She found it difficult to concentrate on her breathing and where she was headed as the song brought up memories of her Friday night with Sir.  She couldn’t understand why she was being so cruel to herself by playing that song again. 
I really do enjoy torture, apparently.

People and buildings flashed by her in a blur.  She hated having to pause at the intersections at both South Michigan and South Columbus, those lights always made her wait the longest.  She was impatient and jogged on the spot, taking off as soon as she could.  She did two laps of her usual section of Grant Park before heading back in the direction of her building on West Adams, slowing to a jog a few streets back and coming to a stop at the coffee shop around the corner.

She ordered two coffees and two bagels, extracting the cash from the tiny zipped pocket in the front of her pants, before walking the short distance back to her building.  Stopping two doors down from her apartment, she knocked and waited.  It had just gone nine a.m. which was still early for her neighbor, and one and only female friend, Andrea, on a Saturday morning, but Mackenzie knew she wouldn’t mind too much.

“You’ve been running already?” Andrea grumbled sleepily when she opened the door.  “Why so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.  Sorry.”

“You have coffee, you’re forgiven.”

Mackenzie quickly relinquished one half of the breakfast from her hands when Andrea attempted to snatch it from her grasp.  She followed her into the apartment, shutting the door behind her.  They both took seats on the stools at the breakfast bar.  A bleary eyed Andrea ran a swift hand through her hair.  The mess of blonde was not willingly tamed and she quickly gave up. 

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” she asked.

“Don’t know.”  Mackenzie shrugged.

Andrea had become friends with Mackenzie in the last few months, after Mackenzie had offered her a shoulder to cry on after a messy break up.  Mackenzie had come home from work late one night and nearly
been bowled over by her neighbor’s boyfriend as he exited the building in a fury.  Andrea had been loudly cursing after him and rather than wake up the whole building, Mackenzie had reluctantly ushered the crying girl back into her apartment and proceeded to lend her shoulder while Andrea ranted.  The next day Andrea had insisted on buying her a coffee.  Mackenzie had denied the woman but she hadn’t counted on how determined the petite blonde would be.  Eventually she caved.

It was an accidental friendship.  Mackenzie had never been much for having girlfriends in her life, but over time it had built into the kind of friendship where a Saturday morning breakfast had become the norm.  Even though the pair got together regularly, Mackenzie still remained fairly closed off.  Andrea, on the other hand, was an open book.

“
Mack?
”  Andrea probed.  “You look tired.  What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.  I don’t want to talk about it.”  She wasn’t prepared to divulge anything about Sir to the woman or him being the reason why she couldn’t sleep.

“Fine.  Don’t tell me.”  Andrea was used to Mackenzie’s unwillingness to talk and smiled before changing the subject.  “I didn’t get much sleep last night either,” the woman said, peering over her coffee before taking a tentative sip.  Mackenzie knew well enough what the next part would be.  “Henry stayed the night, he’s still in bed,” Andrea added with a wink.

“Are things getting serious between you two then?  He’s been staying over more often than not lately.”

“Could be.”  She paused and sighed.  “Oh, I just don’t know Mack, he’s hot, smart… but I wasn’t looking for anything other than a casual hook-up, you know?”

Mackenzie nodded. 
That
she understood.  Andrea’s break up had been tough and she was only just putting herself out there again.  Though Mackenzie hadn’t had experiences like that, she had been at Andrea’s side through it and knew how hard the girl had taken it.  And as for looking for ‘only casual’, that was something Mack knew all about.  She’d never looked for anything more.  There had been a couple of guys, in her past, that had pushed for a relationship with her – she got rid of those early on.

“What does Henry want?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, we haven’t had ‘the talk’ yet.”

Mackenzie pulled apart her bagel and popped some in her mouth with a nod.

“You know Mack, that’s the part where you’re supposed to step in and say, ‘you should talk to him about it Andrea’ and then I’m supposed to say ‘you’re right’ while rolling my eyes and sighing.”  Andrea rolled her eyes for effect before taking a bite of her own bagel.

“You’ve got it all figured out then.  What do you need me for?” Mackenzie said with a small laugh.

Andrea shook her head.  “One day, you’ll be that person Mack, the best friend I’ve always dreamed about.”  She lifted her eyes to the ceiling again and smiled.

“Don’t hold your breath.”

Mackenzie had decided early on that she really did like Andrea and her sense of humor.

“Morning ladies,” Henry said, entering the room.  He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a confident swagger.  Mackenzie could see why he oozed confidence when her eyes made their way down his body.  He was defined.  Dark hair and black rimmed glasses, his pale blue boxer shorts sitting low on his hips.  His smile was wide and his teeth white.  He was definitely worth admiring, although he was not in Sir’s league, he sure came close.  Henry wrapped one arm around Andrea’s waist and grabbed her bagel with the other.

“Sorry, I would have bought more if I had realized you were here, Henry.”

“No mind, Andrea can share
,” he gave Mackenzie a wink before giving Andrea a peck on the cheek.

The woman’s smile set to blazing when she looked up at him and Mackenzie suddenly felt the need to leave.  Not wanting to be the third wheel, she grabbed her coffee, bagel and stood.

“I’ll get going.”

“You don’t have to,” Andrea said as Henry nuzzled her neck.

“Yeah, I think I do.”  Mackenzie chuckled and rolled her eyes.  “Have fun you two!” she called over her shoulder as she left the apartment.  Neither one responded.

When she reached her own apartment, Mackenzie kicked off her shoes, sat on the sofa and pulled
up her feet.  She finished her coffee and bagel and sighed. 
What to do with the day?
  Her apartment was spotless as she had just cleaned it the day before.  She didn’t have any place to go.  Her only hobby was reading and she wasn’t in the mood.  She did, however, need a shower.  She stood and removed her sweater when a knock sounded at her door.

She answered wearing her sports crop top.  The man at the door seemed thrilled at that, causing her to smile at him wickedly.  He wasn’t anything special to look at and almost old enough to be her father, but that didn’t stop her from feeling pleasure at being appreciated by his wandering eyes.  He eventually looked her in the eyes.  Clearing his throat he spoke.

“I have a delivery for a Ms. Reed,” he said, peering at his clipboard.

“That’s me.”

“Sign here.”  He thrust the clipboard toward her and she read the name of the florist on top. 
Flowers? 
She couldn’t see the sender’s name mentioned anywhere on the page. 
Could they be from Sir? 
She felt giddy at the thought.  She quickly signed the paperwork and then peered back at the man, noting that he wasn’t actually holding any flowers.  “Bring them in,” he said, turning his back to her.

Three men walked in carrying two huge vases each.  “Where would
you like them?” one of the men asked when he passed her in the doorway.

“Um, wherever,” she replied dismissively, in shock at the
colorful arrangements they brought in.  She watched the men place the flowers around her home.  All three men walked out and returned with two more arrangements each.  Mackenzie froze, silently watching them as they proceeded to cover every surface of the living room, dining and kitchen area of her small apartment.  The arrangements were of every color of the rainbow and every type of flower imaginable.

“Miss?”

“Hmm?”  She turned to the man in the doorway with the paperwork.

“I have this for you.”  He passed her an envelope.  “Have a good day.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled in a daze, taking it from him.  She closed the door on the men and stepped forward to the first arrangement of flowers - red, yellow and orange gerberas.  Glancing around the room, her mind boggled.  Other than inside a florist, she’d never seen so many flowers before.

She stared at the envelope in her hand.  “Ms. Reed” was written across it in perfectly neat hand writing.  She cautiously flipped it over, her breath held and full of hope it was from
him
.  She slid a card out and read:

Mackenzie’s heart almost gave out. 
Sir! 
Her smile was wide. 
But… how the hell did he know where I live?  I’d not even told him my last name, had I? 
She turned the card over.  No name, no phone number.  She read the card again.  The thrill of hearing from him was quickly washed away by anger. 
That arrogant ass!  His driver will
collect
me.  What if I don’t want to go?  What if I have plans?  How can I say no if he didn’t leave his number?
  She had half a mind to not be here when his driver turned up
.  His driver!  Of course, his driver knows my address, he drove me home.

She looked around her apartment filled with flowers and back at the impeccable hand writing.  Angry at his presumptions or not, she couldn’t stop the smile from forming.  He hadn’t forgotten her. 
He’s coming for me!

And now she had something to do with her day – primping and preening and shopping for something ‘elegant’ to wear.