"Marlena," Bo blinks away the doubt he is feeling about Hope and fortifies himself with another mouthful of wine. "I don't think you're being fair." Somehow he sounds a lot less certain than he should.
"*Fair*!?" She laughs incredulously. "What about this is *fair*?" She slams her glass down on the table and turns back to him, her eyes alive with fire. "Why is it that John and Hope get to do whatever the hell they damn well like and I have to be *fair*?!"
"But they didn't know what they were doing!" Bo argues the line he has been fed, but even as he says it, he realizes that it is not an argument he buys.
"Oh, give me a *break*!" Grace rolls her eyes. "I'm so sick of that *bullshit* excuse." She snatches her glass up again and drains it before sloshing more of the red liquid into the vessel. She waits until Bo finishes his and then she refills his without asking. "No-one put a gun to their heads, Bo. No-one *forced* them to have sex. John and Hope were still inside those people. They proved that by coming back to us. So what? Their love for us wasn't strong enough to fight their 'animal instincts'? But it was strong enough to come back once the dirty deed was done? I don't buy it. What's to say they just won't slip into these 'persona's' next time they feel the urge to cheat? Provides rather a nice no-responsibility clause if you buy that crap, doesn’t it?" She pauses and glares at Bo, as though daring him to disagree with her. "You can't tell me Hope and John couldn't have fought it if they'd *really* wanted to."
"Wouldn't it depend on how far the personalities were submerged?" Bo asked uncertainly, still trying to cling onto some kind of possibility that John and Hope were being truthful when they said they had no control.
"Just who is the psychiatrist here Bo?" she asks snidely.
"Well, it just seems to me that you *want* to blame them..." he takes another swig of the wine, thankful for the warm glow that is starting to spread through him.
"And you're big enough to forget and forgive, I suppose," she asks sarcastically as she stretches her legs out and slips out from behind of the table, giving herself some room in the cramped cabin.
"I didn't say that." He swirls the remaining scarlet liquid around the base of his glass. "I haven't worked out how I feel yet." He pauses and looks up at her.
She has her back to him and she has the cupboard open under the bench, looking for something. The leather pants define her rear with absolute precision and it combines with the wine to provide Bo with a sudden surge of lust. He swallows, but his throat is suddenly dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. Quickly he sucks down what is left of his wine and pours himself some more, emptying the bottle in the process.
Grace pulls a packet of salted peanuts from the cupboard and stands up, throwing it on the table. She sees Bo's embarrassment, but it doesn't stop him from staring at her hungrily. Her lips part slightly as she meets his eyes and she allows a hint of curiosity and surprise to appear in her well-cultured façade.
She says nothing, but eyes the empty bottle and then turns to select another one from the meagre stack. Bo tries desperately to pull himself under control and surprisingly manages as she turns back to the table.
"It's just..." he continues, as he catches a glimpse of a stranger in Marlena's eyes that unnerves him, and excites him at the same time. "You're not really sounding like *you* when you say these things."
"Maybe I'm just being honest for once," she raises her eyebrows and then turns back to the table, reaching out to run her finger around the rim of the glass. The provocative gesture seems to be at odds with the words she speaks. "I've had enough of being screwed about Bo. I'm just sick of it." However, the look she gives him when she's finished brings a whole new meaning to her comment. "If Hope wants John, then as far as I'm concerned, she can have him."
"I..." Bo has to clear his voice as he watches her take another mouthful of her wine, "I don't think you mean that."
"Believe me honey," she nods, a little smile playing on her lips. "I mean it well enough."
"So, that's it? You just give up on all that history together?" he frowns. "I...."
"What?" she leans across the table so that her blouse falls open and he can see the sheer while lace of her bra.
"I...." Bo's totally lost his train of thought and he has to struggle to think back to where the conversation had taken him. "I just don't think you can do that, Marlena."
Grace smiles wickedly, knowing that she has him just within her grasp. Reaching out, she draws her index finger over the back of his hand.
"Would you like a demonstration?"
Bo's eyes widen as he comprehends her intentions and he remembers her words from earlier on in the day. Dammit, she's *right*, he is curious. He always has been. But more than that, he loves and respects Marlena. She is an amazing woman and he doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize their long-standing friendship.
And then of course, there's Hope....
"Marlena-" he pulls his hand away from her touch.
"Oh c'mon Bo," one corner of her mouth twists into a sly smile. "Haven’t you ever heard the term 'turn about is fair play'?"
"Marlena, it isn't *right*!" He can feel himself turning beet red and he wants to back away, but there is nowhere to go.
"And John and Hope having a baby *is*?" she raises her eyebrows but there is a curious lack of anger in her voice.
"Two wrongs...." he holds up his hand, palm out, as though that will somehow act as a barrier.
"Oh Bo," she sighs as she picks up the glasses and hands Bo his. He takes it, his face betraying his uncertainty. His misgivings are almost immediately fulfilled as she slides her behind across the edge of the table and then swings one of her long legs over his so that she is sitting on the edge of the table. Between Bo and the rest of the boat. "Bo honey, this is not going to send you to hell." She empties her glass again and places it on the table behind her. "I've seen the way you look at me. I know you want me as much as I want you." She lowers herself from the table onto his knees so that she is face to face with him and she takes his glass, placing it on the table next to hers. "It's simply chemical combustion, Bo. A small part revenge, a large part lust, with a liberal sprinkling of hot, naked skin..." Her voice is earthy and she grins as she sees him struggling for breath. Slowly, she lifts her hands and unbuttons her blouse. "It's just *great* sex, Bo. You *know* it's going to be the *best* sex of your life."
Bo says nothing as he stares at her, struggling with his conscience, but fast losing the battle. Especially when she sheds her blouse.
"C'mon honey," she whispers as she covers his hands with hers. "It's not all that hard." She wiggles slightly and then grins wickedly. "Oooh, I stand corrected."
"Marlena-" he says hoarsely. It is supposed to be followed by an argument, but all logical thought has fled his brain. He's screwed and he knows it.
"Don't you want to find out for yourself, Bo?" she invites him softly as she lifts his hands to her breasts. "Don’t you want to see what keeps them coming back to me time after time?"
"Oh fuck!" Bo feels his groin tightening as his hands cover the delicate lace of her bra, massaging her nipples and he groans as she slides down his knees so that she is closer to him.
"That's rather the idea." She closes her eyes as she feels his mouth on her skin, hot and wet as he kisses his way across her chest and up her throat. His hands slide around her body and skim smooth over her golden skin before they reach the warm leather at her hips. She deftly unbuttons his shirt and slides it off his shoulders so that he has to shrug it from his torso. Then her hands grip his shoulders as his lips find hers, warm and hungry.
And then he is exploring again, his lips caressing her jaw, whispering against her ear and she is shivering as she moans. John... oh John...
Every muscle tenses as her eyes snap open.
Bo looks at her in confusion. "What? What is it Marlena?"
"I..." she blinks caught half-way between reality and a daydream that is a memory belonging to another woman, in another life-time. No, she hadn't said it. It had only been inside her head.... "I thought you said something."
"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, the confusion not abating a bit with her explanation.
"Oh, sorry," she breathes, trying to still her rapid heartbeat.
"Look, maybe this isn't such a good idea..." The doubt has returned to his eyes and Grace wills herself to relax against him. She can't lose now. She just has to stay in control.
"Oh Bo," she smiles seductively as she moves her hips slowly against him. "You really want to pull out now? Just think of all the fun you'd miss."
"I know I'm gonna regret this," he shakes his head as he looks up at her. "I wish I had the strength to say no to you."
"No, you don't," she runs her fingers through his cropped hair with a lustful smile. "Or you would."
She bends down to press her lips to his and he pulls her close to him, his hands sliding over unfamiliar curves as he explores her mouth with his.
Grace slips her fingers over the taut muscles in his biceps, tracing the definition of his chiselled body with experienced fingers. The hair on his chest is fine and soft, so different....
Doc... Oh God, baby, I love you.... His fingers bring fire to her skin everywhere they touch her and she throws back her head, exposing her throat to his wandering mouth. His sweet, gentle, brutal, passionate mouth. John.... oh John, don't stop... please don't stop. Oh, I love you so....
*No!*
Grace gasps violently as her eyes fly open once again and Bo sees real, wild fear in her eyes.
"What *is* it, Marlena?" he asks, his brow crumpling with concern.
Grace says nothing, but stares at him blankly. Her mind is filled with fragments of images and thoughts and she can't seem to make sense of them. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath. Grace, get control of yourself. You know what you want, so just go ahead and take it.
She can feel Bo's hands, hot on her skin and for a split second, it seems simple again. And then she can see John's face, feel his lips on hers, and her body trembles involuntarily. It's almost as if the harder she tries to concentrate on Bo, the more her mind is torturing her with images of John Black. She's losing control and it's not a feeling she knows. Or likes.
"Marlena?" Bo's hands slide softly over her upper arms and she feels her skin crawling. A few minutes ago, everything was going according to plan, and now she can hardly function.
Bo's concern grows with her extended silence and it proves warranted as, without any warning, she struggles desperately to extract herself from his grasp.
"I'm sorry," she sounds winded as she climbs off his lap and grabs her shirt to her. "I can't do this."
"*What*?" Bo gapes at her, stunned by her sudden turnaround.
"I *said* I'm sorry," Grace hates that she sounds so feeble but she is shaking so badly that she can barely stand up, let alone defend herself.
"Marlena," he is not sure whether he is angry at her or concerned for her as he slides out from behind the table and grips her arms. "What the hell are you playing at?!"
"I don't owe you an explanation, Bo," she says firmly as she tries to gain a hold on her runaway emotions.
"Well someone sure as *hell* owes me one."
Grace and Bo both turn to see Hope, who has just lowered her bulky body through the hatch and who is glowering at them.
"Well?" She taps the steps with beautifully manicured fingernails. "I'm waiting, Brady. I'm waiting to hear why the hell you're both half-naked down here. And since you were the one that walked out on me at the pub earlier, you'd better have a *damn* good explanation...."