Your Mark on Me

Chapter 23: A Spark That Won't Go Out

I had never been in such a huge hotel room before. I could see half of the whole Hilton Head through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the suite and, when I went to use the toilet, I stared for a while at the marble bathroom and the millions of buttons on the shower, which made it look more like a spaceship rather than the mundane utility that it was meant to be.

"I thought you were hungry", Mark said when I came out, shoving the menu in front of me.

We had already started on the champagne. I was only allowed two glasses, but I gobbled up an extra one when Mark wasn't paying attention. Now, halfway through the third one, I was starting to feel buzzed. I picked up my glass and went and sat next to him, on the brown leather sofa.

"Come on", he urged me. "Order something. Anything you want."

"Anything?" I slurred.

Maybe the champagne hadn't been such a good idea, especially on an empty stomach. Mark was right, last time I'd drank things got weird, and now, the thoughts that were crawling through my mind were starting to become just as strange. It was, indeed, a funny thought. But we were both mature people; I mean, we could joke about these things now. I was warm and fuzzy and felt like giggling for no apparent reason. In fact, I was.

"Okay, enough of this", Mark snatched the glass out my hand. "Make up your mind if you want anything or not; if not, I think it might be time for you to go back."

As I got up to do absolutely nothing, I tripped in god-knows-what and, losing my balance, I grabbed Mark's shoulder, leaning onto him. He glared at me, still I could tell that he was finding me mildly entertaining. After all, wasn't it the pet's job to entertain the master? But maybe I felt like being entertained once in a while.

"I do want something, but it's not on the menu."

My legs felt unsteady. Instead of retaking my place I simply let myself fall on Mark's lap. My face right in front of his, I was breathing on his cheek, staring at his mouth with big wide eyes. "Your lips are prettier than mine. And you always smell so nice."

He grabbed me by the waist. Just as if I were a bag, or a coat, or a chair, he simply removed me and put me back on the sofa next to him.

"Right. You might want to reconsider and pick something that is on the menu."

"But it's not on the menu", I repeated, like a broken machine. I giggled again, rubbing my face against his arm. "Oh, you smell so nice. I love this cologne you always wear." Mark gave me a funny look. As he pushed me back on the sofa, I repeated it one more time: "It's not on the menu." "Okay," he sighed. "Go on, what is it that you want?"

I smiled, feeling very witty. "You."

His smile vanished instantly. "What is this, some kind of joke? Do you really think you're funny?"

"Am I not?"

"You're drunk", he said harshly. "I have no idea how you managed to, but you are. Come on, I'm taking you back to the house."

As he pulled me up, I hang off his arm, playfully. "What if, just once?"

Mark glared at me before he let go.

"I bet it would be amazing, with you. If it's anything like that kiss. That kiss was definitely, definitely not 'rubbish'." I laughed, pleased at my impersonation of his accent, but he didn't look impressed. "You know, I've been thinking: I wouldn't trust someone like Roy with it. But I bet you'd know what to do. You always do."

"Start walking, or I'll carry you".

"Don't be like this. I'm only joking, you know that."

"Damn straight you are."