Girls in High Places

Chapter Eight

Despite his invitation for her to stay, Michael remained immobile by the door and Stacy realized she’d have to make the first move or they could remain in this position all night. She was slowly beginning to realize that Michael, without the power of music or being on stage, was really just an awkward, shy teen who almost seemed naïve.

“Why don’t we sit down?” she finally said, patting his bed as she sat on the edge of it. She gave him a warm smile of reassurance. “You must be tired from the show.”

Michael eyed the bed…and then the girl, who was leaning forward a little giving him more access to that tantalizing swell of her bosom. He swallowed and forced his gaze away, mumbling quickly as he headed to the phone. “Are you hungry?” he asked desperately…needing something…anything to prevent his wayward thoughts.

Stacy blinked at the sudden change in topic, but decided to go along with it. “Yeah…a little.”

“Great! Let’s order room service then.” Michael beamed, glad for this little distraction. “So what do you want to eat? Order anything and they’ll bring it up here.”

Stacy pretended to think really hard about it. She placed a hand beneath her chin and tapped it gently. “Anything?”

Michael chuckled. “Yeah, anything.”

“So if I wanted a really big bucket of chocolate chip ice cream, they can get it for me?”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

“So…if I wanted two big, gigantic plates of fried chicken, they’ll get it for me?”

“Of course!”

“And if I wanted a bowl of caviar, filet mignon….eh….”

“…chocolate truffles from France,” Michael chimed in, getting into game and relaxing a little more.

“….fresh fruits straight from India!” Stacy cried out, clapping her hands in delight and giggling as Michael snickered in response. “I don’t like my fruits from regular grocery stores. They must come from India!”

“But of course, mademoiselle,” Michael teased, bowing low at the waist and then straightening up with a flourish. He twirled an invisible moustache and then got to one knee. “Whatever the beautiful mademoiselle wants, she gets!”

“Ooooh!” She preened and crossed her legs, turning up her nose as if she were a haughty princess. “Anything, monsieur?”

“Anything!”

She held out her hand in a dainty manner. “Then you may kiss my royal hand to prove your love to me.” She wasn’t looking at him, her heartbeat quickening at what she was daring him to do. Would he take the bait or would he shy away again?

Her answer came in the form of his firm but gentle grip as he captured her fingers. Without taking a pause, he leaned forward, lashes fluttering closed as his warm breath caressed her flesh before placing his lips upon it. Her breath caught and she shivered at the intimate caress, her entire being springing to life at just this little act. He pressed his lips a little harder in a proper kiss, before lifting his lashes again to stare into her flustered countenance.

“Is my lady pleased?” came the husky whisper filled with unspoken promises. It really was amazing how he could turn on the charm so quickly.

“Ye…yes….”

“Great! Then let’s order room service. I’m hungry.” Michael released her hand and turned away to pick up the phone. Oh, he was hungry all right, but not in the way Stacy assumed. He was still embarrassed and flushed at what he had just done. “What…what do you want to eat?”

You mean, besides you? Stacy thought with a miserable silent groan. This was torture. “Whatever you want to get, Michael.”

She listened to him order some burgers and soda, with some desserts to complete it. Feeling restless, she walked into the living room area – which wasn’t really all that big as it was just made up of a long white couch and the large T.V set with a remote control – a luxury in Stacy’s eyes. Sitting on the couch, she turned it on and flipped through the channels.

“You want to watch a movie?” Michael asked quietly, as he hung up the phone to sit on the arm rest.

“Mmmhmm. Do you?”

“Do I what?” Had her hair always been this shiny and soft-looking? God, how he wanted to run his fingers through them…

“Want to watch a movie?”

“Whatever you want to watch,” he replied shyly. “I don’t mind.”

She smiled and shook her head, deciding to settle on a channel that was showing a black and white classic movie she was not really sure of. The lead actress looked beautiful though, and at the moment, she and her handsome leading man were seriously getting it on as they rolled around on the sand at the beach. Stacy felt her cheeks flood with color and tried to flip the channel quickly so Michael wouldn’t get the wrong idea. However, his next comments made her stop.

“That’s From Here to Eternity,” came the quiet commentary. “It’s a great movie.”

“You’ve seen it before?”

“Yeah…I love old movies like this,” Michael replied as he finally got off the armrest to sit beside her…still not close enough as if afraid she’ll bite. He clasped his hands on his lap and stared at the T.V refusing to acknowledge how nice she smelled and what a number it was doing on his senses. “Sometime, I watch them before going to bed…or before Joseph can come in to bug me.”

“Joseph…?”

“What?”

“Why do you call him…Joseph?”

Michael shrugged lightly. “It’s what we’ve always called him. He doesn’t want us to call him…Dad.”

Stacy stared at his profile, and she would have been a fool not to notice the hint of sadness in his voice as he said this. She longed to reach out to touch him, but was afraid he’d not like it. She kept her hands to herself and whispered softly. “It must hurt, huh? Never being able to call him Dad or Daddy.”

For a long moment, Michael said nothing, but he knew she was right. It did hurt, but it had been worse when he was much younger. There were times when he’d secretly call Joseph ‘Daddy’, wondering what it would feel like to say it aloud so that the world could hear. But no…it had to be an impersonal relationship between father and children. It was a psychological gulf that Joseph had built…something he was not even aware of.

“It’s all right,” he finally said with a small smile. “I’m used to it. What about you though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean your own father.”

“Oh….” Stacy shrugged lightly. “He was shot on his way to work when I was about five. There was a race riot in the city back then and he was caught in the middle of it. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess.”

Michael winced inwardly, stealing a glance at the girl to see how she was reacting to this. He was surprised to find her features were neutral, and she had said it as if she didn’t really care one way or another. But it had to hurt too. It must have. He couldn’t imagine how he’d deal with such a loss.

“Stacy…”

The knock on the door broke through whatever else he might have said, and he bounded to his feet to answer. As expected, it was room service and Michael stepped back, allowing the two waiters to push in the trolleys filled with…

“Michael!” Stacy gasped in disbelief, while trying to stifle her laughter. “Did you order their entire candy supply?”

Michael shrugged abashedly and thanked the waiters, giving them a generous tip before closing the door behind them.

“I demand only the best for my lady. Ready to chow, girl?” Michael asked with a grin.

Stacy gave a mock groan and flopped onto the couch. “Oh man, the cavities!”

__


Half-an-hour later, they were sprawled on the floor, now watching a Charlie Chaplin classic as empty plates, wraps of candy, bowls of unfinished ice cream and empty or half-empty bottles of sodas lay around them. Stacy was currently licking off her fingers from dipping them into a concoction she and Michael had made. It involved mixing chocolate, strawberry and vanilla ice cream with a dash of Coke and a sprinkle of fresh grapes and cherries. Michael was sucking off a cherry, giggling at the same time at something Charlie was doing on screen.

Suddenly, he jumped to his feet and dashed towards the closet.

“What are you doing?” Stacy asked in bemusement.

“Hold on…” came the muffled reply. Soon, Michael popped out with a bowler hat on his head – almost like the one Charlie was wearing on screen. He pretended to hitch up his pants like Charlie, and then bowed at the waist, before pretending to slip on an imaginary banana peel.

Stacy clapped her hands in delight, laughing as he stumbled to his feet and tried to bow again. He blushed shyly and plucked the bouquet of flowers from a vase in the room. Bowing again, he presented it to Stacy, and getting into the spirit of their role-play, Stacy bat her lashes coyly and accepted the gift. She leaned close to place a kiss on his cheek, earning a dramatic swoon from Michael as he collapsed to the floor, a hand over his heart to signify that he had been struck by Cupid.

She gasped silently and leaned over him, flailing her hands about and mouthing out ‘help! Oh, help!’ She cradled his ‘lifeless’ form and cried…silently, which was hard to do considering Michael was beginning to giggle and he wasn’t helping matters by trying to tickle her at the same time.

They soon gave up as she swatted him with the flowers, and she rose to her feet, pretending to be upset. Michael followed like a lost puppy, trying to do things to make her laugh, but nothing he could do would get his lady love to forgive him. He pursed his lips in thought and then snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. He moved to the record player and eyed the selection of music. He finally settled on Frank Sinatra and as the crooner’s voice filled the room, Michael slid towards his lady in a smooth move that had her gasping with genuine delight and pleasure.

He bowed at the waist and straightened up to hold out his hand in invitation. In this silent movie, no words needed to be said as she stared into his eyes and willingly drowned in them. She accepted and allowed herself to be pulled against him, their bodies moving as one to the soothing sounds of Ol’ Blue Eyes. Michael knew the words to the song and he whispered them into her ear as she closed her eyes.

I'm gonna love you,
Like nobody's loved you
Come rain or come shine
High as a mountain, deep as a river
Come rain or come shine

I guess when you met me
It was just one of those things
But don't you ever bet me
'Cause I'm gonna be true if you let me

You're gonna love me,
Like nobody's loved me
Come rain or come shine
We'll be happy together, unhappy together
Now won't that be just fine

The days may be cloudy or sunny
We're in or out of the money
But I'm with you always
I'm with you rain or shine

When the tears came, she had no idea, but she couldn’t stop them even if she wanted to. She buried her face against his chest, listening to the thud of his heartbeat, realizing with a pang that this was a dream she never wanted to wake up from. Tomorrow, he’d be gone and she’d be left to pick up the pieces…to move on, while he continued to dazzle the world with his brilliance. Tomorrow, she’d just be another girl he had met in New York…another statistic to his already cluttered life. Tomorrow…

“Sta…Stacy?” came the thick whisper filled with an emotion she couldn’t define.

She finally looked up, not ashamed to let him see the tears. “What is it, Michael?” she asked softly. Hoping…praying he’d finally take the plunge.

“May…may I…ki…kiss you?”

Oh, Michael…

She closed her eyes and leaned into him, sighing with relief as she finally felt the gentle sensation of his lips against hers. She heard his soft intake of breath and felt his body tremble in response. It was a sensation so heady, Michael felt dizzy at the intensity of it all. He seemed unsure of what next to do, and Stacy had to take the initiative, parting her lips to allow her tongue to tease his.

“Oh, God,” he groaned and tried to pull away a little, panting breathlessly at how quickly his body was flaring up with heat at what was going on. “Stacy…”

“Don’t stop now, Michael,” she encouraged with a warm smile. She released his right hand and guided it towards her hip. “You are doing good.”

“I…I am?” It was amazing how that bit of an ego-boosting comment had him feeling a lot more confident. His grip tightened on her hips and he pulled her flush against him, allowing her to feel the obvious heat that emanated from his lean frame. He kissed her again, this time relishing in the way their tongues met and how good it made him feel. He moaned as he felt her breasts crushing against his chest.

Holy…

“Wait…wait…” Stacy panted, pushing him away gently.

“Wha…what is it?” came the breathless reply from the boy who was now too far gone in his lust to think straight. He blinked in surprise as he was pushed back to the bed, falling onto his elbows as he stared up and into the pensive features of the beautiful girl before him. What was wrong? Had he said or done something out of line?

“Stacy…?”

“Before we go any further,” Stacy began, as she took a deep breath. “I should tell you something, Michael.”

He tried to swallow his worry. He knew she had her boyfriend and what he was doing was…

“I’m nineteen,” she said quietly.

He looked confused…waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, he shrugged lightly. “So…?”

Stacy’s mouth opened and shut in disbelief. “You…you’re not upset?”

“Should I be?”

“But…”

“I don’t care how old you are, Stacy. Haven’t you realized that by now?”

Michael smiled and sat up, reaching for her hips to pull her closer to him. He pressed his lips against her stomach in silent worship…but not satisfied with the taste of the clothing, he slipped his hands beneath the blouse to feel the warm skin that trembled against his fingers. Higher…higher still and he could now feel the swell of those sinful mounds that had teased him all evening. As he caressed them, he watched her expression hungrily, marveling at the way she seemed to sway into him, her lashes closed, breathing ragged with growing passion.

So this was what women went through when they really got into it. It was…beautiful.

He pulled away as she pushed him gently, choosing to peel off the blouse herself to fully reveal her body to him. Her hands slid to her waist and she unzipped her jeans, slipping them down her hips to stand only in her underwear. He had seen pictures of naked women before – no thanks to all the magazines his brothers would slip into their hotel rooms when they could. However…unlike the ‘perfection’ presented to him on those glossy pages, standing before him was a real woman – full in all the right places but with something…different.

Bruises…oh. My. God.

Kevin’s handiwork was evident on her upper arms and her thighs. Michael could feel the well of anger at the bastard for what he had done and he reached out to caress them gently, as if hoping he could wipe away the memory of the pain she must have gone through. He wanted to protect her…to shield her from any more suffering. He wanted to be with her…for as long she wanted. He wanted to be the man of her dreams.

“Oh, Stacy…” he moaned.

“I will teach you how to make a woman happy, Michael,” Stacy whispered as she reached for his shirt to pull it over his head. “For tonight…I want you to love me as a real man should. I want to make it a night you’ll never forget.”

Never forget me, Michael…never. I beg of you.

__


He lifted heavy lashes and blinked slowly, trying to gather some sense of where he was. Never had he had such a good night’s rest and as he stretched his arms over his head, a small smile of awareness came to his lips as memories came rushing back. After last night, there was no way his brothers could tease him about being a saint any longer. He was now officially a man and he had only one person to thank for it. He sighed in content and then turned to face the woman who had taken him to heights of pleasure he never thought imaginable. They had cuddled up together after doing it twice…and now…it was his turn to show her all he had learned.

“Baby, last night was…” he began, but the words froze on his lips as he noticed the empty space beside him. Her scent still cocooned him like a shield, but the only evidence that she had even been there, was the dent on the pillow where her head had been. Feeling slightly panicked, he sat up quickly, wondering if she was in the bathroom, but the oppressive silence was simply a reminder that he was all alone. Her clothes were gone and she had even taken the time to clean up the mess they had left in the living room.

Oh, God…no…please!

Feeling his chest…

My heart.

…constricting painfully, he stumbled out of bed and roughly wrapped the bed sheet around his waist. The naïve notion that she might still be on her way out, had him dashing to the door. He threw it open and peered out, but was only met by the sight of Big Bill at his position by the elevator and the sound of laughter as Marlon and Tito appeared from around the corner, making their way towards him.

“Ooh, Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake,” Tito teased. “What’s wrong, Michael? You better hurry up before Joseph gets you.”

His reply came in the form of the door slamming in his face as his kid brother dashed back into the room. Michael leaned against the door and closed his eyes, struggling not to break down in misery at the enormity of the situation. There was no denying the obvious after all.

Stacy was gone.