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Rated pg-13
She sat still as Derek glanced back at her and walked out the door. No sooner had the latch clicked then Addison felt
the bed dip and Mark's hands fell on her shoulders. She drew in a deep breath as he pressed a kiss against the side of her
neck.
"Are you okay?"
"I knew what I was doing," she answered. "It'll never even occur to him that if I wanted to keep this
a secret, I wouldn't have let him in."
His fingers gently kneaded the muscles at the base of her neck.
"No regrets?"
Addison tipped her head so he could better massage the knot on her right side.
"He doesn't get to know how much he made me doubt myself. Derek doesn't get my last shred of self-respect. I'd
rather him think I was a dirty whore than know what he did to me."
Mark knew. When she'd returned to her hotel room and walked in to find him waiting, champagne and two glasses on the
nightstand, Addison had just frozen. She looked awful, she felt awful, and she wasn't sure what to do next.
He'd walked up to her and leaned his face close, the subtle growl that was always present in his voice soft as he spoke
to her.
[i]"I thought you might need me."
"I'm drunk," she replied. "I'm very drunk. And I don't know how I lost him. Before... before you, before
her... I don't know how I lost him."
His hands eased up the seams on the opening of her raincoat, and he pushed it back, letting it drop on the floor. She
closed her eyes and felt him pull the hat from her head, his fingers smoothing through her hair.
'He didn't want me. All these months, he didn't want me... I felt it every time we made lo--no, every time we had sex.
Didn't he know how that would make me feel?"
Mark's hands peeled the coffee-stained hoodie off next. Then Addison felt his palms against her stomach as he lifted
the bottom layer of her "mourning outfit" away from her body and skimmed it over her head.
Her eyes opened, and she found him looking at her with such... compassion and desire and understanding.
"You should hate me," she whispered. "You should hate me if I ever made you feel like this."
She felt her breath catch as Mark leaned still closer, his hands pressing into the curves on each side of her waist.
"You never made me doubt myself, Addison. You just made me realize what I wanted, what I was willing to do to get
it."
Her arms hung at her side, and though she was tempted to lift her hands, to touch him, she was afraid if she moved, he'd
vanish and she'd be alone again.
"What is it you want?" she asked with an unsteady voice.
"You," he purred, his breath tickling her face. "But I knew he'd have to break your heart all over again
for you to see that you're better off without him."
"I want to believe that. I just feel so... so empty."
"I can take it away," he promised, his whisper sending shivers rippling across her bare skin. "If you
want me to, Addison, I'll take it all away."
Mark leaned even closer, so much so that she knew if she moved at all, their lips would be touching. Her eyes fluttered
shut.
"Please... please... "[/i]
The first kiss had been gentle, Mark drawing her close, wrapping his arms around her. But in moments, the chemistry that
had always lingered between them, that had imploded their lives in New York, caught fire again. The rest of her clothes vanished;
she tore at his until they disappeared. Then together, they melted into the bed, into each other, and Addison felt tears
on her cheeks as Mark cried out her name and her body surrendered to the release their passion had allowed her to find.
She really had thought it was room service at the door because, honestly, she didn't expect Derek to try to find her.
But there he was. And all his heartfelt, sincere apologies and guilty feelings had evaporated at seeing Mark standing Adonis-like
in the doorway to the bathroom. Derek felt justified now--Addison was fine, they were both better off. He was free.
The knock at the door now really was room service, and Mark answered, signing the bill and directing the waiter on where
to set the food. Addison didn't move from her seat, and once the waiter was gone, Mark again climbed onto the bed, his chin
resting on her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist.
"You should eat," he said. "If you drank as much today as you said you did, you should eat."
She nodded. Addison knew he was right, but she couldn't move. Derek had brought the pain back into the room. Her chest
felt tight again and her breathing became unsteady. And just when she felt like she might break, Mark pulled her back, easing
her to the bed, his hands parting the robe that hung loosely around her. She sighed as his body pressed against hers.
"It's not about what Derek didn't see, sweetheart, it's about what I do."
His lips brushed against hers and Addison wrapped herself around him.
"How beautiful I make you feel," Mark whispered, "how sexy you know you are when you make me beg you to
touch me... how nothing in the world matters to me compared to you... that's what I see, Addison."
He looked her in the eye as he spoke, determined to make her believe. She smiled at him, willing to hope he was right.
And then Mark leaned down and claimed her lips and he took the hurt away again.
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