Cloned For Him Page 2

  “You shouldn't bite your nails like that. You'll ruin those pretty teeth.”

  I jumped and felt my blood run cold at the sound of his voice, but I composed myself and turned around, smiling awkwardly, “It's a nervous habit, sir,” I explained as Mr. Davidson approached, a warm smile adorning his face and his arms folded behind his back, “I've been a 'Nervous Nellie' my whole life. Half the time I don't even realize I'm doing it.”

  I bit back a shudder as he reached out and gently grasped my hand, tugging it away from my mouth, “Now then, I'll make it my personal mission to cure you of that habit.”

  “Oh, you will, will you?” I muttered.

  “Yup. My little sister was a biter too. Dad's methods were a little less than helpful, so gran came up with a sneakier method. She'd pay Jilly ten bucks every week she went without biting. That kid saved up a small fortune by the end of the year.”

  “You don't say.”

  “Feel up to a challenge, Marcie?”

  “...Marcella.” I corrected him.

  “What a lovely name. Is there any reason behind it?”

  “...It was my grandmother's name.” I bit.

  “It's beautiful. I'm guessing only certain people are allowed to call you Marcie, huh?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, someday I hope to become one of those trusted few. So, where's Mr. Weaver?”

  “My husband went to get a snack. We won't be staying very long.” I explained.

  “The food line is awfully long, dear. He might be awhile.”

  I felt my heart rate quicken when he drew slightly nearer to me. I scowled, pulling my arms around my waist and fixing my gaze out the window, trying to give him the hint.

  He wasn't taking it.

  “You know this lodge doubles as a hotel, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “It's actually owned by my younger brother. He bought it and converted it several years ago.”

  “I see.” I said, wondering where he was going with this.

  “I know every nook and cranny of this place by heart. After all, I helped him renovate it. I even decorated most of it. This place is like a child I've watched grow up and mature. It means so much to me.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I know all the spots that normal visitors don't get to visit. All the quiet little corners where two people could have a private conversation without being disturbed.”

  I felt goosebumps rise and dearly wished Steven would hurry up.

  “How about it, Marcella? Care to take a little walk with me?”

  “To where?” I asked, stepping away from him as subtly as I could manage.

  “I left Trudy at my table. I'm quite certain she wouldn't mind if you accompanied me for a little while. How about it, love?”

  I couldn't pretend to be ignorant anymore. I turned sharply, facing him, “Sir, with all due respect, I'd rather not. I'm flattered you find me interesting, but I'm more than content with Steven. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd better be heading back to our table.”

  I moved off as confidently as I could, congratulating myself heartily and happily for how I'd handled that extremely uncomfortable encounter. However, as I took my seat back at the table, it occurred to me that Steven would be furious if he knew his boss had approached me behind his back. I glanced up to the food line over against the north wall and saw him there eying a basket of fresh rolls. He hadn't noticed anything. If he had, he'd be storming back over to me to make sure I was okay. I bit my lip, my heart hammering.

  There was no way I could tell him what had just transpired. I didn't want to risk his position with the company and there was no way in hell I was going to worry him needlessly. Besides, it wasn't like I'd ever see Mr. Davidson very much outside of these company functions and he didn't strike me as the sort of creep who would stalk a woman on the sly.

  I took a breath to calm myself and straightened my back against the seat, smiling as Steven returned and sat down across from me.

  Not a word.

  ***

  Steven

  At the urging of both our stomachs, I finally agreed with Marcie that it was time to leave. The roll had had a distinct bland taste to it that I found neither appetizing nor appealing. I'd left half of it on the table. I located Mr. Davidson and alerted him of our pending departure. His face fell and his shoulders sagged slightly, “Ah, that's a shame, Mr. Weaver. Are you sure? I've a feeling in my gut that the white elephant this year is going to be a real doozy!” he said, patting his stomach again.

  “We're sure, sir. Marcie had a long day at work and she's feeling pretty tired.” I lied.

  “They make her work on Christmas eve? Where do you work, honey?” he asked, for the first time actually sounding genuine.

  “Oh, I work as a baker at Jensen's.” Marcie said, smoothly adding to my foundation. She was only half-lying. She was actually a baker, just not for Jensen's. She'd been searching for work since we moved to town and hadn't had much luck.

  “Jensen's Marketplace? Tch. Color me shocked. Marcella, if you ever want to switch jobs, give me a call. I have a friend who owns a bakery chain and they're always looking for talented help.”

  “Thanks, I'll do that.” she said. She had no intention of doing any such thing.

  Mr. Davidson fixed his gaze on me next, the same warm grin on his face, “So there Weaver, you sure you aren't interested in the wife swap?”

  Reflexively, I pulled Marcie closer and did my best to force a smile, “Positive, sir. I think I hit the jackpot the first time around and I'm not really a gambling man.”

  Mr. Davidson sighed, his face falling slightly before smiling sadly, “I understand. Well then, I'll see you at work after the break, Weaver. Have a very, merry Christmas.”

  He waved us goodbye as we made our way to the front door. Marcie hammed up the act by forcing a couple of rather convincing yawns as we collected our coats from the coat check and ventured out into the blistery winter night.

  I tipped the valet who brought us our car, giving him his expected rate as well as what would have been our server's rate had he not been a complete snob. Marcie staggered into the front seat and collapsed with an exhausted sigh, reaching over to unlatch my door as I trudged through the snow and climbed into the driver's seat.

  “Ugh.” she groaned as I pulled away from the curb, “What a high-society basket of bores.”

  “Sheer poetry.”

  “I'm serious, Steve; everyone in there had their noses held so high their nostrils could be used as airplane beacons. I felt like the country mouse for Christ sake.”

  “Well, if ya'll are finished acin' squirelly, maybe the two o' us kin go git some nice, tasty burgers from that there Mickey D's.” I cackled.

  “Oh god, I'm so glad we're out of that place.” she groaned, though I couldn't miss the smile etched onto her face as she resisted the urge to giggle.

  ***

  The rest of the night could only be described as magical.

  We ordered our food at a local drive-thru and ate our burgers sitting in the parking lot with Christmas carols playing on the radio. Marcie told jokes throughout the meal, making me laugh so hard I practically choked on my food. I retaliated by tickling her in the ribs which almost made her spill her soda all over the seat. We toned it down from there for fear of necessary reupholstering charges after the holidays, but I could already feel my heart pounding in anticipation.

  We got home and as soon as I unlocked the door, Marcie kicked off her heels and dashed upstairs without warning, nearly tripping over Doozle napping at the landing on the second floor. While I listened to her fumbling around up there, I stripped off my uncomfortable suit jacket and tie and hung them from the coat rack beside the door. I heard a tremendous thud reverberate through the ceiling, followed by staggering footsteps as Marcie appeared at the landing. With a soft whump, the enormous purple comforter from our bed landed on the floor at the base of the stairs and Marcie, now dressed in a long, baby pink nightie, cl
opped down the stairs after it. Grinning at me, she bundled the blanket up in her arms and dashed off to the kitchen where the laundry room sat in the next room. I heard the dryer door open and slam shut.

  I smiled as it occurred to me what she was doing. I found her in the kitchen with two holiday mugs, some mini marshmallows and a box of Swiss Miss hot chocolate mix. When she saw me approaching, she sighed and smiled sadly, “I wanted to make my special hot chocolate,” she said, gesturing to the unused crock pot sitting by the sink, “Unfortunately, it takes too long to prepare.”

  I moved to stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her middle and kissing the top of her head.

  “This right here sounds heavenly.” I whispered. My hands shifted to her waist, slowly tugging the nightie up along her shapely, smooth hips. She swayed slightly, tenderly knocking her head against my chin, “Hold up there, tiger; not until the blanket is nice and warm.” she admonished.

  I backed off against the other counter, watching in anticipative agony as she filled the mugs with milk and stuck them in the microwave. The proceeding three minutes felt like forever as I watched her shapely backside gently swaying to some song playing in her head. She flipped her long hair, the curly tips reaching nearly to her bottom and she glanced back at me, a sly smirk playing at her lips.

  She knew what she was doing.

  Bing!

  The dryer went off in the next room. Sashaying by me, she plucked at the sleeve of my shirt playfully, “You finish up our drinks,” she whispered, “I'll get the blanket.”

  I groaned and moved to the counter, mixing the chocolate packets into the milk and stirring vigorously. I heard her yanking the blanket out of the dryer and out of the corner of my eye, I watched as a shapeless lump of hot blanket waddled through the kitchen and into the next room, bumping against the doorway with a grunt as it went. I chuckled and added some marshmallows to the drinks, picking up both cups and heading into the darkened living room.

  Uh...not so darkened. I paused in amazement at the flickering light filtering through the hallway as I watched Marcie poking at a freshly built fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. She'd spread the blanket out on the floor, sitting with her legs folded beside her as she worked. The fire lit her face, giving her an irresistible ethereal outlook that drew me in closer.

  “Hey you,” I whispered, sitting down and handing her a mug.

  “Hey you.” she repeated, batting her eyes at me and kissing me on the cheek.

  “Nice fire. Guess I've taught you well, young grasshopper.”

  “Does that mean I get to graduate?”

  “From where?”

  “Never mind. I'm too tired to make anymore witty observations.” she sighed, leaning against me and resting her head on my shoulder. I leaned my head against hers, feeling utterly blissful in the moment as the stresses of the day seemed to wash away with every sip of warm cocoa, the scent of her very being wafting into my nostrils.

  “This is nice.” she whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  “You know, I've always wanted to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Have a romantic Christmas evening by a fire like this. I'm glad it's with you.”

  I chuckled, “I'm glad you feel that way. Sometimes I sure feel like you're way too good for me, Marcie.”

  She raised her head, “What?”

  “Well, I know that before we got married, I always promised you all kinds of things; nice clothes, fancy trips, good food, etc. I know I haven't really delivered on many of my promises and lately, it seems it's all I can do just to make you happy.”

  “But that's enough, Steven.” she protested, grasping my arm, “I don't think you realize just how happy you make me. I don't need fancy trips or clothes or jewelry or what-not.”

  “You know Mr. Davidson's absurd proposal this evening?”

  “Blech. Don't remind me.”

  “Well...it got me wondering...would you have been happier married to someone successful and charming? Maybe not him, but someone like him? Someone who can give you everything you want?”

  She suddenly, but gently grabbed the sides of my face and forced me to turn so I was looking straight down into her eyes, “When I married you, what did we agree on?”

  “Uh...for richer and for poorer?”

  “In sickness and in health, till death do we part.” she finished, “And I mean that. Steven, I've always known it was you. Ever since I was little, I think I've been in love with you. You're everything I've ever wanted—or will ever want—in a partner and I can't imagine being with anyone else.”

  She tenderly tugged me down until we were both lying on our sides, curled up together with our faces mere centimeters apart. She stroked my face, running her fingers delicately through my hair as she smiled, “Successful or not, I just want to share my life with the man I fell in love with.” she murmured.

  “Are you sure I'm good enough?”

  “More than enough.”

  I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers, drinking in her scent, her essence as she tangled her fingers through my hair. The desire to be pressed in close to her drove me to curl one leg up and around hers, dragging her closer as I wound my right arm beneath her, hugging her tightly to me as our kiss grew more fervent and passionate. I reached around behind her, fumbling her bra straps with shaking hands as I finally felt the snaps come undone and she moaned as it fell away, revealing her soft, supple breasts in the low, flickering light. I fondled the tips gently, making her sigh and rock gently against me, her hands gliding down my body until she gave my rear a quick pinch, making me jump. She snickered as I eyed her playfully and then flipped her over on her back, making her squeal in delight and mock fear. Pressing myself down against her, I ground myself gently, torturous, languid movements against her warm, soft core, making us both groan in agony and ecstasy all at once. Her nails raked softly against my back, tugging the hem of my dress shirt up across my skin, the friction from even that driving me wild. I unfolded myself away from her, sitting up and practically ripping the shirt up over my head, tossing it aside into the darkness. Unable to bring myself to pull away from her, I laid back down over her and shimmied out of my pants and underwear, helping her do the same with her nightie until all that rested between us was the warmth of the fire and the cool night air. Skin to skin, our breaths came in heated gasps and pants as we moved steadily, driving each other insane with teasing, tender movements and hot, passionate kisses. I dragged my lips down to her neck, suckling and licking. I let out a low groan as her hand wandered lower, stroking me carefully and sending shivers down my spine with every touch.

  “Oh god, Marcie,” I whispered.

  I pulled us back to our sides, moving closer to her and aligning against her as she draped her left leg over my hips, tugging me closer. I carefully penetrated her, the warmth of her channel surrounding me and making me cry out in unison with her as I yanked her into my arms in a crushing embrace. She panted into my neck as I sank fully inside of her, her hips twitching and bucking of their own accord as I began to rock to her movements, tangled deep within her embrace as our lips met again. Her hair spilled behind her, her body undulating with mine as our moans combined in a feverish pitch, my arms gripping her so tightly that for a split second I doubted I'd ever let her go.

  “Oh god, Steven!” she cried.

  Our bodies alighted with warmth as we fell still in each others' arms, the crackling of the fire masking our heated gasps for air. Our skin glowed in the aftermath as I carefully released her, brushing her damp hair from her eyes as I gazed down into her angelic face.

  “Merry Christmas, darling.” she whispered.

  “Merry Christmas, Marcie.” I answered, pressing another kiss to her moist forehead. She sighed contentedly and sank down against me on the floor, her eyes falling shut in exhaustion and sated satisfaction. I reached around behind us and dragged the comforter up over our bodies, wrapping us in tight like a cocoon and snuggling down against her. The
warmth from the fire permeated our little haven of satin and I listened to the wind blowing outside. I found myself feeling grateful for our tiny, dilapidated house and the poor insulation. If that insulation had been any better, then this sleeping arrangement would've been very hot and uncomfortable indeed.

  The unpleasantness of the Christmas party already seemed like a distant memory and I found myself dreading going back to work in a couple of days a little less than I had before. As I rested my chin against my beloved's head, listening to her silent breathing, I felt a little more at ease than I'd felt in several long, expectant days.

  Chapter Three: Steven

  New Year's came and went. Marcie and I spent our holiday break opening Christmas cards from family and friends and playing with a new toy I'd purchased as a joint gift, a new gaming console. Much to my chagrin, Marcie was clearly the dominant one in the geek endeavor and I found myself playing catch up to her more often than not. But the sound of her laughter as she successfully kicked my butt in yet another fighting tournament was always enough to make me smile and I accepted my many defeats gracefully.

  By the time it was time to return to work, I couldn't hide my disappointment. The morning of, I dressed and stubbornly fixed my tie and sighed as I felt Marcie’s slim hands wind around my waist, hugging me from behind.

  “So,” she said, “You ready to tackle our lives again?”

  “As I'll ever be.” I admitted half-heartedly.

  “Tell you what.” she said, turning me around, still hugging me, “I'll cook you whatever you like tonight to give you some morale today. Sound good?”

  I smiled, in spite of myself, “Sounds great, baby.”

  “Wanna think about it for a bit?”

  “Yeah, I think I'd better. I'll call you this afternoon before you get off work. Sound good?”

  “Sounds fine.” she said as she did her long hair up in a high ponytail. She straightened her jacket and folded her arms behind her back, “I'll go shopping this evening then and we'll have a nice dinner tonight, just the two of us.”

  “Oh god, I can't wait already.”