Impersonating Brianne Ch. 03

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Marissa makes her decision.
  • May 2006 monthly contest
13.5k words
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 04/07/2006
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HLD
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This is the third part of the "Impersonating Brianne" series. If you haven't read the other two chapters, I suggest you do so. I'd love to hear from you, so feel free to leave a comment or send me an email. Enjoy!

***************************

After making love in the desert, Alan and Marissa returned to the hotel. They held each other all night, overcome by their passion.

With the sun's first rays shining in through the windows, Marissa found herself once again in Alan's arms. Unlike the day before, now she only wanted to stay in his embrace, but their time was almost up. They made love as the sun rose and then packed up their things for the mid-morning flight.

Alan settled up the bill and was surprised to find that many of his expenses had been comped to him by the Luxor. Marissa flashed him a knowing smile and he squeezed her hand appreciatively.

They took the rental car back to McCarron International Airport and waited for their flight. Alan fell asleep on the plane, but Marissa's heart raced. She fidgeted nervously as her lover slept. For the first time in what seemed like forever, her future was clouded by uncertainty.

They landed in Columbus and waited for their connecting flight. Alan went off looking for a restroom and something to eat while she watched their carry-on bags. As soon as he was out of sight, she checked her voice mail and found two messages.

Both were from Laurie.

When she heard the other girl's voice, the bottom fell out of Marissa's stomach. After her conversations with Alan, after feelings within her had been awakened, she dreaded returning these calls. But she knew she had to.

Dialing the number, she hoped that it would roll over and trigger a game of phone tag.

No such luck.

"Hey there, sweetie," Laurie said.

"Hi there, yourself," Marissa replied, looking around to make sure Alan wasn't nearby.

"How was your trip?" the other girl asked conversationally.

"It was fine. We're still in Columbus waiting for our flight home." Just a week ago, Marissa never would have used the term "we". Things can sure change quickly. "Vegas was nice. Not too hot."

"Listen," Laurie said, cutting quickly to the chase. "Do you remember Scott Milton? The stock broker? He's wanting you Wednesday and Thursday night. I told him you were out of town, but that I'd see if you would work this one on a quick turnaround."

"Um," Marissa stammered, trying to conjure an image in her mind. Scott Milton: tall, balding, likes to be spanked, good tipper. "I don't know. I might take a couple of days off."

"A vacation from your vacation, huh? Let me know either way." She could hear Laurie flipping through some papers. All business. "We're coming up on the travel season and I've got a couple of requests for you for next weekend. Give me a call when you get back in town."

"Sure thing," Marissa said. She closed the phone, sat back in the seat and let out a deep sigh. What am I going to do?

Alan returned a few minutes later. He had a pretzel and a Sprite for himself, a double-helping of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream from Ben & Jerry's in a waffle cone for her.

They sat together at the gate while waiting for their plane. Soon she found herself absently resting her head on Alan's shoulder as he thumbed through the gazillion photos on his laptop that he taken with his new camera. She smiled unconsciously every time she saw them together.

About thirty minutes later, their flight was called. They held hands while waiting with their boarding passes.

The flight on the puddlejumper was quick and when they landed, there was a pall over both of them. Neither wanted to talk. Marissa put her arm in Alan's, trying to savour the memory of his touch.

The war within her continued as her emotions struggled for control. Over the past day or two, her heart had been winning. She allowed herself to feel for another person again. She liked that Alan made her smile.

But old habits die hard.

The part of her that had ruled her life for the past five years was trying to re-assert itself.

Alan will break your heart.

What will you do? Get a job? You won't find one that pays as well.

Will you be Alan's private whore?

You've been in a bubble for the past week. Alan's going to realise that you're not his wife, and he'll put you out.

He's on the rebound.

When he wakes up with a hooker in his bed, he'll come to his senses.

She was quiet as they retrieved their luggage. Alan led her to his car and then drove back to his house. So wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn't notice when he pulled into a grocery store on the way home.

Marissa looked at her watch. It was almost six.

"What would you like for dinner?" Alan asked as he got out of the car. Marissa got out, too.

"Um, I'm not really hungry," she said. Her body was still on Pacific Time.

"Well, I can't have you wasting away on me, how about some fish?" Alan held out his hand and she took it.

"Alan, I really can't stay. I've—"

"What? Got a hot date or something?" he interrupted her with a nervous smile. "Our arrangement was for eight days. By my math, that's tomorrow at 9 am."

He's just trying to put off the inevitable, a voice within her said.

"You're absolutely right," Marissa replied. She didn't know if she was rationalising or not, but technically, he was correct. Any excuse to spend more time with him. We'll talk tonight.

They went inside and Alan picked up a couple of items, some for dinner and some to fill out his pantry. After all, they had been out of town for a week.

He drove them back to his house and they unloaded their stuff. Alan sent her into the kitchen with the groceries while he unloaded their bags out of the trunk. In addition to their suitcases, Alan had his laptop case and the new camera bag. They had also boxed up the goodie basket he had bought for her and some of the flowers were set and pressed by the Luxor guest relations staff. Alan had Brianne's dress and his tuxedo shipped back via airmail, so they wouldn't arrive for a couple more days.

After setting the bag down inside the door, Marissa watched Alan moving around his kitchen and thought that he looked a little more animated than the day they had met. He was even humming.

Alan was finished putting all the groceries up, so he led her through the house back to his bedroom, each of them rolling their luggage. The house was large, with the master bedroom downstairs and three bedrooms upstairs. Although he and Brianne didn't need all the space, one day they had hoped to fill it with a family.

When she walked into the bedroom, the first thing she noticed was that the bed didn't match any of the other furniture. The dresser, armoire and nightstands were all colonial-style pieces, but in the middle of the room was a Japanese-style four-post bed that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Alan took her suitcase, set it in a corner and then went back out to the kitchen before she could ask him about it.

She followed him and sat down at the table while he prepared their meal. She poured them each a glass of red wine and watched him indulgently. He was so handsome.

First he hard-boiled two eggs and then set them aside to cool. Then, he took the salmon filets and wrapped them in aluminum foil. He placed small cubes of butter in with each, a couple of slices of lemon and some fresh dill. Once everything was in, he sealed the foil up.

In a zip-top bag, Alan doused some fresh asparagus with half a bottle of Italian dressing and then let it sit for a few minutes. He ducked outside long enough to light the grill and a couple of citronella torches.

All the while, he rambled aimlessly. Like Marissa, it looked like he was trying to avoid the hard discussion they needed to have.

Coming back inside, Alan opened a bag of spinach leaves. He sliced up some fresh mushrooms and put everything in a big bowl with a handful of bacon bits and some shredded cheddar cheese.

He led her out to the back deck just as the sun was setting. The yard was fairly large and had a high privacy fence. There was a wonderful view of a lake that was down over the hill. On one side of the deck was a good-sized hot tub and on the other a nice set of deck furniture with a big wooden table and matching padded chairs. There were neighbours on each side, but the houses were far enough apart that they weren't too cozy.

Alan put the asparagus and a handful of uncut mushrooms in a veggie basket on one side of the grill. After the veggies cooked for a few minutes, he set the salmon on the other side and let them sit for ten minutes on each side (at medium-high).

The evening was cool and a little humid, but it wasn't too bad. They decided to eat out on the deck.

He diced the eggs and put them in the salad, then served it with a delightful sweet and sour dressing. The salmon was cooked just right; the foil kept in most of the moisture and the center was just on the good side of rare. The asparagus was crispy and the marinade added a touch of flavour.

Marissa hadn't eaten such a nice home-cooked meal in some time and was amazed at how quick and efficient Alan was. It definitely qualified him as keeper material.

Their conversation still wasn't about anything important, although they were much more comfortable around each other than they were a week ago.

"Don't you have papers to grade or something?" Marissa asked.

"Not this past week," he replied with a grin. "Spring break. It's not just for the kids."

Marissa laughed and got up to refill their wine glasses. She wanted to have "the conversation" with Alan and needed some courage.

While she was up, Alan was futzing with something by the hot tub.

She went back out on the deck and found soft music playing. The sun had disappeared over the horizon and the only light on the back deck was from the flickering torches and what shone through from the kitchen.

Alan took a sip from his wine glass and then placed both glasses on the railing. He reached out and Marissa couldn't stop herself from stepping into his arms.

They started to dance slowly. Her heart raced.

"I had a wonderful time with you this week," Alan said in her ear.

"I did, too." Marissa was trying to figure out how to say what she needed to. The palms of her hands started to sweat. "Listen . . . Alan . . . We need to—"

"Shhhhh . . ." he stopped her. His voice was gentle and the look in his eyes hypnotic. "Not now. I know we need to talk . . . but . . ."

Marissa wanted to cry out or slap him or something. She was falling for him.

A part of her wanted to know if he was worth it. If his unspoken promises would be delivered. If he felt the same way. She needed to hear the words.

Yet, the other part of her knew that he would catch her. He had treated her too well and his actions spoke louder than any words that could come out of his mouth.

Marissa's life was about certainty. She desired clarity. Order. Alan brought confusion to her life. Disorder.

Feelings and emotions bubbled up from the depths of her soul. It was exciting and scary at the same time.

For the first time, Marissa was allowing herself to be vulnerable.

And that was the worst part.

Standing there with him—under the stars, held in his protective embrace—Marissa wanted for nothing else.

When he kissed her, passion consumed her and overrode everything else. She pushed all of her other concerns out of her mind. They didn't go quietly, but they went. Because when she was with Alan, she knew that he would never hurt her.

It can wait until tomorrow, Marissa rationalised some more to herself. We'll talk about it then.

She dropped all pretense of dancing with Alan. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against him.

His hands went to the small of her back and he held her close.

Their kiss seemed to last forever. They lost themselves in the moment. She focused on his lips. They were soft and when they weren't on her own, they were nibbling on her ear or down the side of her neck.

When he bit her just behind the ear, she let out a startled gasp. She pushed her chest forward, pressing her breasts flat against him.

He responded by reaching down and cupping her backside in one hand and pulling her as close as they could be while still wearing clothes.

Marissa felt like she was held aloft in Alan's arms. It was a glorious feeling, yet scary at the same time.

She pushed all the negative thoughts out of her mind as one of Alan's hands reached up and cupped a breast. She cried out when he squeezed her like a ripe melon.

There was a bulge in his pants and it was pressed against her. Marissa wondered if Alan was going to take his time with her all night or if he was going to bend her over the table in the kitchen and fuck her. Just the thought of him doing either turned her on to no end.

As her hands went to his belt buckle, he pulled back.

Marissa let out a frustrated sigh.

"Not before dessert," he said, the hint of a taunt in his voice.

"I thought you were dessert," Marissa purred seductively.

"Hold that thought," Alan winked.

He gave her one more kiss then began gathering up their plates. She made sure the grill was off and blew out the torches when it became apparent that they weren't coming back outside.

There was a pile of dishes in the sink, but Alan was already into something else. He had a taco salad shell on a plate and was in the fridge getting some other things out. Marissa watched him assemble the ingredients on the counter: cinnamon ice cream, honey, chocolate syrup, mini-chocolate chips, shaved almonds and whipped cream in a can.

He scooped several generous helpings of ice cream into the shell, then drizzled the honey over the ice cream. After that, he covered it all with whipped cream, and then sprinkled the chocolate syrup and almond shavings over their dessert.

"What's this called?" Marissa asked. In her mind, she was thinking of different ways to use some of the ingredients.

"It's an ice cream taco," Alan replied. "We used to go to a little Tex-Mex restaurant that served them. After a while, we figured, 'Why pay someone else to make them when we can do it ourselves at home'."

"It looks fabulous," Marissa said. She reached down and patted Alan on the backside. "I hope you didn't use all of the whipped cream."

Alan blushed and they dug into their dessert.

A short time later, the dishes were still in the sink and Alan and Marissa were cuddled up on the couch watching TV. Both were full from dinner.

Her head was rested against his shoulder, his arms pulling her to him. Marissa ran her fingers absently down his forearm.

"Can I ask you something?" Alan said. "About last night."

"Sure," Marissa's heart almost stopped.

"When you said the guy . . . from the insurance company . . . gave you a hate fuck," Alan started nervously. "What did you mean? Do you feel like that with me?"

"Oh, dear god, no," she breathed. "No, Alan . . . I don't feel like that with you. He . . . He just wanted to get off with someone and I was there."

Marissa turned so she was facing Alan.

"When I'm with you . . . I . . ." her voice trailed off as she searched for the words. "When you fuck me . . . it's not because you're angry or having a power-trip. It's because you're dick is controlling your actions. Like on Thursday, after the last of your meetings . . ."

She started to get wet at the memory. "You came through the door of the room. There was this look in your eyes . . . it was feral. You bent me over the arm on the couch and took me."

"You didn't mind?" Alan asked.

"No, honey," she replied. "I loved it. I was so turned on by how much you wanted me. You couldn't wait to get inside me. It was like you weren't in control and you needed to have me."

Marissa could tell that Alan was getting excited.

"The best part, though," she said softly, "Was that when you were done pumping and fucking and cumming . . . you didn't just walk away. You didn't simply bang me. You lifted me up and kissed me. Then you sat us down on the couch and just held me. Even when you wanted nothing more than to fuck my brains out, it was still like we were making love. Only harder and faster."

They both took a deep breath.

"I love being with you, Alan," Marissa said softly. "And it's not just about the sex. When you fuck me, it's because you need me. When you make love to me, it's because you . . . you want me. I feel so comfortable with you. So safe. I haven't felt that way in a long time. And, no, I don't say that to all the guys. When I'm with you, I don't feel like you're trying to impress the people around you or that you're wanting to exert your power over someone else. It's like you . . ."

Love me, were the words that were on her lips, but Marissa couldn't bring herself to say them.

"What if I told you that I wanted to strip you naked right here and fuck you senseless?" Alan said. That look was back in his eyes.

"Mmmm, that sounds like a good idea," Marissa purred. "But I've got a better one . . . Wait here for a minute. I'll call you when I'm ready."

She gave Alan a lingering kiss, raking her teeth across his lips. He was hungry for more, but was willing to play her game. The look she gave him promised great rewards for a little bit of patience.

Marissa went into the bedroom and dug around in her suitcase. She found some things she had picked up while she was out running errands earlier in the week. Then she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and pull her hair back.

After that, Marissa shed her clothes and rifled through Alan's closet. She found a handful of candles and lit them. The room was bathed in the soft glow from the votives and the moonlight coming through the open windows.

She flipped the lights out and took a deep breath.

Only a few minutes had passed and she was sure that her lover was dying to get into her.

"Oh, Alan," she called. "Come and get it."

He must have been right outside the door because the handle turned almost immediately.

Alan only got two steps into the room and stopped suddenly.

Marissa stood in the middle of the room. She was wearing one of Alan's dress shirts. It was buttoned down, covering all of her private parts, but the top was open, showing just enough cleavage to be enticing. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbows.

Around each wrist, Marissa had tied a long silk scarf in a slipknot. She had a seductive look in her eyes.

"I told you something that wasn't true last night," she said softly. "When I told you I didn't have any fantasies, I was lying. I have one. And I want you to fulfill it."

"What can I do for you?" Alan managed to breathe.

"I want you to tie me down and make love to me, Alan." The words weren't easy for her to say because trust was something she didn't pass around freely. "I want to be helpless for you. I want to be at your mercy. I want you to make me scream."

Alan could only stand there and gape at her.

"I'll beg, Alan . . . if that's what you want."

Time seemed to freeze. Alan and Marissa stared at each other. Their eyes seethed with lust. They radiated desire. And something else.

Something not tangible. Something neither of them was ready to acknowledge.

In three steps, Alan crossed the room and took Marissa in his arms. He lifted her up, his hands under her ass. They kissed and she felt the butterflies in her stomach shift into overdrive.

Marissa wrapped her arms and legs around Alan as he carried her to his bed.

As he started to set her down, Marissa reached beneath her and pushed the sheets away. Alan maneuvered her to the middle of the bed. His body pressed against hers.

HLD
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