Made for You: Marcia and David's Story

By Candace Nicole Werts

Marcia Davis has everything a girl could ask for. Not only does she have a thriving career as a financial analyst at A.Werts, she is a risk taker when it comes to fashion, and her make-up stays flawless. She is blessed to have two best friends, Carmen and Giselle. Will their friendship survive once the truth is revealed?

If you don’t envy her for those reasons, you will once you see her with the one and only David Parker. Behind all the glitz and glam, no one knows the dark secrets that she’s concealing. Until, a severed head is delivered at her door...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Candace Nicole Werts
• Release date: Jan 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781517703868

Candace Nicole Werts

Candace Nicole is a former Early Childcare Educator and Business Owner. She is married and the mother of 4 children (two of them are beautiful cats) and they all reside in Central Virginia. Candace Nicole has always been an avid reader. She continuously dreams about wonderful characters and their stories that need to be told. Candace Nicole realized and knew that it was time to share their adventures of life, career and, more importantly, love through adult stories.

Book preview

Chapter One

Carmen and Cooper’s wedding is beautiful. It’s good to see my best friend happy. They really love each other. Watching them dance to Made to Love by John Legend, makes me wonder if everyone gets a happily ever after.

Giselle’s talking to Liam, Cooper’s cousin; I’ve never seen her grin so much. Of course, I’m headed to the bar when I see David walking towards me with two drinks in hand. David’s a sexy ass man. His bronze skin makes me think of a Greek god. He passes a drink to me.

Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me? I ask.

He laughs. I know how much you enjoy your beverages, and no one could take advantage of you. He smiles. I don’t need to take advantage, because you’ll be begging me to do things to your body.

I take a sip of my champagne. David’s always saying shit like this. I wonder if he has a big dick and more importantly, if he knows how to use it.

David, I don’t have time for this conversation, they’re about to leave.

He replies, You always run away, Marcia. If you’re scared say so.

He knows how to piss me off, so I walk away.

Finally, after everyone has said goodbye, Carmen and I hug.

You have fun in Hawaii and fuck your husband a lot.

Carmen rolls her eyes. Marcia, I’m going to miss you. Stay out of trouble–and don’t drive David crazy.

Jokingly I say, Me cause trouble? Never. I look at David, who’s talking to Cooper, and say, I’m not thinking about him. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women.

Carmen gives me an all-knowing look. Cooper returns to her side, and they kiss.

Cooper, take care of my girl.

He lovingly looks at Carmen and put his arms around her. Always.

We say our goodbyes, and I watch them get into the limo. David tells me that he’s in town for two weeks and he wants to take me out. I tell him maybe. This amuses him; cocky bastard.

Giselle and I walk into our apartment building. We wave hello to Frank, our doorman. He asks how Carmen’s wedding was. We tell him everything, and Giselle gives him a piece of wedding cake. Before we get into the elevator, Frank tells me I have a delivery. He hands me a medium-sized brown box and I thank him.

We change our clothes, and drink rum and cokes.

Giselle asks, Marcia, are you going to open that box?

Yeah, pass me a pair of scissors.

We stand around the box. I have a feeling that unfastening this box is going to change my life. Slowly, I open the box and feel the coolness escape as I remove the card inside. It’s typed and says: A life for a life. There’s no signature.

Frowning, I move the white tissue paper to find a severed head with gouged out eyes.

Fuck, I don’t need this shit in my life.

Chapter Two

We stand there looking inside the box. Giselle’s saying something, but my eyes are focused on Mitch’s head. I haven’t seen this son of a bitch in two years. Normal people would be freaked out, but not me. He looks frightened, and I can’t resist the urge to touch. His skin is cool, pale, and stiff. His eyebrows are raised over the empty eye sockets. Mitch’s mouth is open, becoming the new home for his expressionless eyes. The jagged edges around his neck show that it was sawed off. Giselle shakes me, and this gets my attention.

Marcia, you need to focus on what I’m saying.

Okay.

We have to call the police.

Why?

She looks at me like I’m crazy. We have a head sitting on the counter.

Looking back at Mitch, I state, I’ll call the police. I start walking towards the house phone, but she stops me.

Marcia, you’re not in shock; hell, you smirked when you recognized the person.

Giselle, I say.

No, shut up. I don’t want to know any details. Before the police are called, you need to vomit and cry.

I reply, Why, I feel fine.

That’s the problem.

Giselle tells me to think of something that has happened which was painful and made me miserable. I don’t want to remember, let alone relive that day. Sighing I voice, I can’t.

Sorry Marcia. She punches me in the stomach, and the vomit rises while memories flood back. This makes me cry.

Calling 9-1-1 is the easy part. Giselle makes me look at Mitch several times. As I continue analyzing the head of a man I thought I would spend forever with, the man I thought loved me, I become more disgusted and emotional. Finally, she says my grin is gone.

When the police arrive, it’s time for me to put on the best performance of a lifetime. Giselle opens the door, while I sit on the couch shaking, with a tissue in hand.

At first, they ask the basic questions, like what’s my name, occupation etc.; then they get to the real reason why they’re here. Detective Jones looks familiar, but I just can’t figure out why; he asks, Marcia, do you know why someone would send this to you?

No. Lie number one.

Did you know the victim?

Victim? He’s no victim. No. Lie number two.

Was there a note or letter inside or outside of the box?

No. Lie number three.

Detective Jones looks tired and frustrated. He keeps looking at his watch. I wonder if he has a lady waiting for him.

Detective Peterson takes over. She’s a decent looking women, probably in her early thirties, has a nice smile, but I know better than to trust any of them.

Marcia, I know this must be a horrible ordeal for you. She gives me a reassuring smile. I play along and give her a timid smile.

Yes, it is. And this is so scary. Why would someone do this? That poor person’s family. I make myself cry.

She’s pleased with my words and actions. If you don’t mind, will you tell me what took place this evening?

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. We just got back from our friend’s wedding when Frank told me that I had a package delivered. For a few minutes, we talked about Carmen’s wedding. We came home and had rum and cokes before changing our clothes. I finished changing first and decided to open my gift. She raises her eyebrows. Shit. Quickly I add, What I thought was a gift, only to find… Once again, I put on the waterworks.

Detective Peterson comforts me. When did Giselle become aware of what was going on?

Not until after I screamed and threw up. She ran into the kitchen and saw my mess; quickly, I closed the box because I didn’t want her upset too. Lie number four.

My story’s believable, because Detective Peterson says they’ll be in touch. She hands me her card, just in case anything comes to mind. Detective Jones, her partner, is speaking with Giselle. While walking towards the door, Detective Jones notices a picture of my 10-year-old self next to the Keurig.

He picks up my picture and asks, Who is this?

I tell him it’s me. A strange expression comes over his face for a brief second, and then he wishes us a good evening.

Closing the door, Giselle says, I’m glad that’s over.

Shaking my head I reply, I think it has only just begun.

Chapter Three

Giselle has slept in, which is understandable after what we went through last night. While making coffee, I call my mom. It rings three times before she answers.

Good Morning, Baby Girl. It’s early for you to be awake.

Hi Mom, is Dad around?

Yes he is. She screams, Andrew, the baby is on the phone. What’s wrong? she asks, shifting her attention back to me. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale.

I need to talk to the both of you. I can hear my dad’s voice. Mom, put the phone on speaker. She pushes the speaker button.

My father says, We’re both here. What’s going on?

I inform my parents about the severed head, and the police being called. My mother cries. Dad asks, Are you okay?

I remember Giselle’s words, A severed head being delivered to anyone would upset them, so when you’re asked if you’re okay, say anything but yes. Answering I say, I’m shook up, and didn’t sleep well last night. Lie number five.

Dad wants to know why I didn’t call them last night. I try to explain because it was so late, but he doesn’t care.

Pumpkin, he says, We’re your parents, and when something happens you are to call us immediately.

It takes me an hour to convince my parents not to come over. It’s exhausting. To take my mind off the madness, retail therapy is a must.

I rush through my shower and don’t wash my hair, or shave my legs. Even though I’m in a hurry to get out of the house, I always have time to apply my MAC makeup. Today I choose a purple eye with hot pink lips, which goes well with my black tee and short shorts.

As my car gets closer to the mall, the sun starts to shine brighter. I can hear the shopping angels sing. My moonlight white convertible Infiniti Q60 IPL comes to a halt in front of The Fashion Centre at Pentagon City. I prepare to hit up some of my favorite stores. Luckily, I’m able to find close parking to my first stop. My car’s secure, after hearing the beep from my keyless alarm. I round the corner and enter Aldo’s. Unable to decide between two different eye-catching pairs of heels, I end up purchasing both. So much for savings; I look at them both as a great investment to the Marcia’s Guilty Pleasure collection. The first pair is a five-inch stiletto. The colors are aqua, yellow, and hot pink. Spots outline the colors in black, producing a fresh look of leopard print. The second is a pair of ankle peep-toe booties. Straps of suede and mesh cross up the foot, bordered in sequins. The four-inch back heel is covered in plain black suede.

At Bebe, the ladies working are very helpful in making my shopping experience more enjoyable. Four items are charged on my good ole Visa, which happens to be my debit card. Two are sexy short rompers; one is strapless and made in rose gold sequins with a stretch pink satin tie-waist belt. It has pockets, which is always a plus for me and my bad smoking habit. The other romper is made of silver and black lace. The front has a deep V-neck, while the back is sheer. The lace bottoms are separated by a black ribbon attached at the waist, used to tie as a bow in the front. The other items are two hot dresses; one is a chain halter studded dress. The front tear-shaped opening reveals a side profile of my breasts. The second dress is short with a mesh pattern along the neckline; pieces are cutout on both sides of the waist. The color is listed as sugar coral; anything with the word sugar in it has to be a good buy. They were all love at first sight purchases; too bad they can’t be worn to work, but I’m sure they will get much use when Giselle and I go out clubbing.

My tummy starts grumbling as I exit, but I have one last stop to Abercrombie & Fitch for a killer bathing suit. The perfect two-piece bikini in hot pink welcomes me, and I snatch her up. The bottoms are just how I like them—skimpy. I also pick up a sheer romper to use as a cover if ever needed. On my way to the checkout counter, a hand touches my shoulder. Turning around, I’m surprised to see David. He looks great in his fitted white t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. Everything about him is perfect, from his straight white teeth to his feet that are visible in those Clarke sandals.

Hey Red, he says.

I hate when you call me that, I say while walking towards the counter.

He follows. I know. He flashes that gorgeous smile.

David, I’m trying to shop in peace. What do you want?

You already know what I want, he says as he yanks my ponytail. But in case you forgot, I want you, Marcia.

Suppressing a smile I say, You and everyone else.

It should be a crime for anyone to be this fine.

He grins and moves in closer. But the difference between me and everyone else is that I’ll cherish you and give your body pleasurable pain.

Dammit, I wasn’t horny before I left home; now I’m going to have to relieve myself later.

The sales associate has her mouth wide open. I’m not sure if it’s because of what David said, or due to his striking looks. I clear my throat; can’t have this hussy lusting after him. She starts ringing my items as David adds his things.

Your total is $257.65, she states.

David hands over his card. In the process, his shirt rides up, allowing a sneak peak of the defined v resting along his oblique. His shorts hang invitingly on the waist; I begin to think about what’s stuffed inside.

Stopping my dirty thoughts I state, I can pay for my stuff.

Red, let me do something nice for you. Say thank you or nothing at all.

Whatever.

He grabs our bags and asks, Now where to?

I’m heading to get something to eat. Don’t know what you’re going to do.

He laughs. Okay Red, lead the way.

We ended up at Great Wraps. David orders us two Santa Fe Chicken Wraps and two bottles of water. He sees me frowning.

Don’t worry Red, we’ll go to Starbucks and get you some caffeine.

I smirk and state that I’m going to get us a table. One’s available in the far right corner. Waiting for him, I begin to wonder why he keeps calling me Red. Is it because of what they say about red heads? Red in the head, freak in the bed. I hope that isn’t the only reason he’s interested. From my seat, I have the perfect view of David’s backside. The white tee fits tightly around his ripped muscular arms. I imagine what it looks like off. Chewing hard on my gum, I accidentally bite my lip. I think he caught me admiring his ass.

We eat in silence. I know I should be thinking about what took place yesterday, but with him in front of me, I could care less about anything else.

David asks, When are we going out on a date?

Isn’t this a date?

He smiles. He’s always smiling. No, I didn’t pick you up from your apartment.

What makes you think I want you at my place?

Since I’ve already slept there and you had no problems with that, picking you up shouldn’t be an issue.

He’s referring to the first time we met. That night was a disaster. My friend, Carmen, was drunk off her ass; she puked all over herself. Carmen was poorly coping from a breakup with her now husband, Cooper.

I don’t answer David. I’m lost in his beautiful face and he knows it. He flashes that million-dollar smile and states, I’ll make this easy for you, Tuesday or Wednesday evening?

Wednesday.

Good, hump day is my favorite day of the week.

I laugh. It’s my favorite day too.

We go to Starbucks. David orders a strawberry smoothie, but my order is a Venti Espresso Roast with a double shot of espresso. He tells me if I exercise more, I wouldn’t need all this caffeine.

Pissed, I ask, Are you calling me fat?

He laughs, but I want to punch him in the face.

No, there’s nothing fat about your sexy body. I would love to see it naked.

I sit back in my chair. Is sex all you ever think about?

Who said anything about sex? I just said I wanted to see you naked.

Glaring I ask, So you wouldn’t want to have sex if I was naked?

Red, you’re not listening to what I said. I would love to see you naked, and of course I want to have sex with you, but that’s all the time. It would be a lot harder to resist devouring you with nothing on.

I lick my lips. You’re shameless.

He chuckles. You like it.

I can feel myself blushing. Yes I do.

We finish our drinks and David walks me to my car.

Very nice, David says, what year is it?

2014; a gift to myself on my recent promotion, I respond, and place my bags in the trunk.

Closing it, David surprises me when he states, I know one of those bags holds a cute bathing suit. Wednesday, come to my house for an evening dip in my pool. I’ll make dinner and we’ll have a good time. I guarantee it.

He grins and opens my door for me. I knew I should’ve stopped at Victoria’s Secret for some new lingerie. Who am I kidding, nothing is going to happen, or is it?

Marcia, is that a yes? David stares at me with those mysterious eyes.

Yes. Text me your address and the time. Oh and David, I may or may not allow you to see me in a bikini.

His eyes course the length of my body with much intrigue. He then looks down, making sure I’m completely inside before shutting the door.

He finally speaks. I look forward to it, safe travels, Red.

Before going home, I decide to stop at Martin’s and do some grocery shopping. This is the only type of shopping I hate. Normally I would order out, but Giselle says home cooked meals are better for you. I’ve learned not to argue with her when it comes to the topic of food; you’ll never win. Her obsession with food would make you believe she’s overweight, but she’s a cute, petite thing. First I go to the wine section, and grab three bottles of Bella Bolle’ Moscato D’asti; so yummy. Giselle sends me a text: Giselle: Hey, are you coming home for dinner? Me: Yes. At Martin’s, do you need anything? Giselle: No, got everything covered. Me: See you in a bit. Giselle: Okay

Walking into our lobby, Frank helps me with the bags.

Thanks, Frank.

No problem. Sorry about last night, I didn’t know what was in the box. God, I really don’t want to keep talking about this.

No one could have known. There’s no need for apologies. He smiles as the elevator opens.

Giselle opens the door and takes the extra bags from Frank. Our place smells wonderful. I ask, What are you cooking?

Baked Spaghetti, cheese garlic bread, and Caesar salad, she says.

Smells delish.

We put our groceries away. Giselle pours us some wine and plays soft jazz. As I prepare my coffee for tomorrow morning, she states how good it felt sleeping in, and how she enjoyed her run during the daylight. Giselle asks about my day. I hold up my bags and do a happy dance. While the pasta’s baking, we go to the living room, where I try on my new purchases.

Our new wall-covering mirror that’s framed with decorative black lines will be getting a lot of use. It’s huge, but allows you to get the full view. I turn multiple times in the sequin romper, thinking it was well worth the expensive price. Then again, my philosophy is you only live once– YOLO!

I tell her how I bumped into David. When I tell her about our date plans, she claps and says, About time. Ignoring her comment, I briefly tell her about our conversation. Of course, the phrase, pleasurable pain makes her laugh.

I think you may have found your match, she exclaims.

An hour later, we eat dinner. Giselle can cook her ass off.

Where did you learn to cook like this?

Just picked it up.

Well you’re in charge of all the cooking unless we order out, that’s my forte.

Giselle adds, And the grocery shopping. Lucky Charms and powdered donuts isn’t the best way to start your day.

I laugh. No complaints here. I’ll clean up the kitchen.

While cleaning up, I think of the time when David and I cleaned up together. I don’t know why I haven’t given him a chance. Well, that’s not entirely true. I haven’t been in a relationship in years. Yes, I have sex, but it’s casual. With David, I have a feeling things will be intense. He makes me horny with just his words. His touch will probably drive me crazy.

I enter my bedroom and pull out my newest dildo from the purple trunk positioned at the foot of my bed. I refer to it as my personal chest of treasures. I take my pleasure machine in the bathroom as I start running the shower. Positioning myself in front of the marble counter, I slide the vibrator between my pink fold. Clicking the on button, vibrations begin at a slow pace along my clitoris. My naughty thoughts are all on David and his fine ass.

What it would be like intimately with him? I start taking the vibrator up and down my slickness. At the point of reaching my clit, I click to adjust the speed. The device begins circling my pulsating point, for ten seconds then repeating the same thing until getting through all six speeds available. On the last speed, my hand is shaking trying to stay gripped on the counter. My legs have grown weak and within seconds, I have an explosive orgasm, no insertion required. Once my body is steady, I sit my toy down and hop in the steamy shower. I begin washing my hair and then shave my legs, making them silky smooth. After cleaning my body in cucumber melon body wash, I rinse my hair and exit the shower stall.

I reach for my purple towel to dry off, and grab another to wrap my hair up. My moisturizer is applied to my face, and lotion covers the remainder of my body. I look at myself in the mirror. Prior to the wedding, I was active in the gym, but my body is nowhere in the shape of David’s. He lives in the gym when he’s not traveling the globe with all his fancy building openings. He’s one hell of a man, and I can’t wait until Wednesday.

I clean my toy and put it back in its storage place in my bedroom. I slide on my purple tank and white shorts, and climb into my king-size bed. The quilted eggshell headboard is unique in shape. The side designs are traced in gold, creating a 1900’s look, but in excellent condition. It matches my nightstand and bedside table, which holds my lamp and alarm clock. The back wall is painted a deep plum purple. Large rectangle moldings are positioned on each side of the bed, all edges trimmed in antique white. I have a floor to ceiling sectioned window overlaying one of my four walls. Cream drapes with a tan pattern are pulled back using purple velvet ties. Because I live on the sixteenth floor, I rarely have to close them, except the mornings I decide to sleep in. I reach up to hit the switch on my crystal chandelier hung above. The room turns to darkness, and I have no issues falling asleep.

Chapter Four

Six-thirty on Monday morning comes too early. I can hear Giselle in the kitchen and smell the coffee brewing. Walking in a semi coma towards the kitchen, I see that Giselle’s already dressed for work. Seeing me she says, Good Morning, your coffee’s brewing.

How long have you been up?

"Since 4:30. I had to go for a