A French Kiss in London
Page 5
“I’ve never tasted something this good in my whole life!” he exclaimed, his eyes closed in delight. “Would you like to go in the living room? A good movie in your company is all that’s missing.”
She smiled, taking her own bowl and spoon.
“You’ll have to watch that cream at all times. Pirata loves it.”
They sat comfortably on the living room sofa. Following a short debate regarding her DVD collection, they decided to watch Far And Away, a sort of romantic comedy starring Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman.
The movie had barely begun and Gerard’s bowl was empty. Linda laughed when she saw him placing it on the table.
“Do you want some more?” she asked, putting her half-eaten dessert next to his empty bowl.
“No, thanks. It was delicious, but I’m full.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
He sank deeply between the cushions and put an arm around her, on the sofa’s backrest.
On the screen, Tom and Nicole were exchanging witty lines, making both spectators laugh out loud.
“I would love to visit Ireland one day,” Linda confessed, referring to the country where the movie was taking place. “And another thing on my to-see list is Stonehenge. Though I’ve been in England for months now, I’ve never taken the time to visit it yet. But I plan to.”
Gerard watched her curiously.
“You too?”
“I guess that means we have a common goal?”
When he nodded, she went on, “Ever since I was in high school, when we learned about Stonehenge during History classes, I was fascinated by the pictures of that place, by all the legends going around about the origin and purpose of those megaliths, about druids. I’m interested in everything tied to Celtic culture, although I don’t know much about it.”
“Frankly speaking,” he said, “I believe no one knows anything for sure. They all speculate based on some research or facts and the hypotheses of the ones who invent opinions. But you’re right, places like Stonehenge are spectacular. It’s incredible to simply admire them, to imagine the efforts of the people—or any other entities—who built them, driven by ideas or purposes known only by them. I intend to visit it too, one day.”
“Maybe we’ll go together,” she suggested.
He looked at her, smiling.
“I would like that. Perhaps when I get back from Romania.”
She absently stroked Pirata, while the cat curled up in a corner of the sofa, sleepily kneading a cushion with his claws.
“When do you plan to leave? And how will you get there?”
“Well, as soon as possible I’ll reserve a plane ticket. When I get there, I’ll rent a car or something.”
He slowly rubbed his chin, watching her thoughtfully.
“Why don’t you come with me?” he asked her, so suddenly it had probably been a potentially crazy impulse.
She stared at him, stunned.
“Me? In Romania?”
He shrugged.
“What’s the problem?”
“W-well, in two days I have the opening of my art exhibit. I have to be there,” she stammered.
“I hope you plan to invite me too. I can’t wait to see what you can do,” he replied, his white teeth gleaming in the playful light beams coming from the TV screen—the only source of light in the dark room. “But we could leave next week. Or do you have something against Romania?”
She massaged her forehead with two fingers. The guy demolished her every argument like a wrecking ball.
“I don’t have anything against it, but I can’t just leave. What do I do with Pirata?” she asked with renewed hope.
He thought it over for a moment.
“Didn’t you say you have a housekeeper? She could take care of him. We won’t stay longer than two or three days. Or don’t you want to come with me?”
She sighed deeply.
“It’s not about that…”
Under his steady gaze, she felt herself weakening.
“I’ll think about it, I promise. And I’ll try to find a way to organize my stuff. Now let’s watch the movie, okay? I haven’t even paid attention.”
Meanwhile, the movie’s action had moved from Ireland to America, and the adventures of the two protagonists oscillated between amusing and tragic.
“I’ve always wanted to have curly hair,” Linda said dreamily, admiring Nicole Kidman’s thick, wavy hair. “Look at her, she’s gorgeous with that hair.”
Gerard ran his hands softly through her hair, analyzing a long strand.
“Your hair is lovely just the way it is,” he said and she turned her face to his. “Ever since I first saw you, I admired it. After last night, its scent has remained etched into my memory. You remained ingrained into my head.”
She looked at him, speechless. The games of light and shadow coming from the screen reflected on his face. One moment, they emphasized only his deep eyes that watched her with their unmoving spark. Then the light fell over his lips, sensual and so alluring, capable of offering the most skillful kisses. When he leaned in closer to her, his warm breath made her whole body tremble with desire.
An almost electrifying shiver ran through her from head to toe at the first touch of his lips. When the kiss intensified, passion seized them both, engulfing them in thousands of sensations, nameless but of a crushing profoundness.
When he drew her against him, running his hands over her soft skin, she was lost in his touch, in the masculine scent stirring her senses. She felt his lips and steamy breath over the sensitive skin of her neck, turning all her doubts into imaginary ashes. She wanted this man with every particle of her being, and his every gesture proved that he was as lost as she was in the intensity of those same feelings.
Gerard drew back from her slowly, then stood and turned off the TV. They both remained in darkness—two silhouettes in the weak light sneaking through a window.
He enfolded her in his arms again, whispering with his lips on hers, “Where’s the bedroom? Show me.”
With her heart racing madly, she took his hand and headed toward the stairs. Then they were lost to the silence and blackness.
The same diffused lunar light streamed through the windows of the bedroom, and a vague floral smell perfumed the air.
Next to the bed, he drew her into his arms without a word. He kissed her deeply, exploring her naked back with his rough palms. Under her curtain of hair, he found the strap that held her dress in place, tied at the nape of her neck. He slowly untied it and the white dress glided to the floor with a sensuous rustle.
They remained face to face. She, naked, and he, still fully dressed—an erotic tableau in the moonlight.
He lowered her tenderly onto the bed, then rose and began undressing. Each inch of naked, gorgeous body exuded pure masculinity. Linda had the impression her own skin radiated mists of lust. She studied his strong arms, the networks of veins subtly outlined, his magnificent chest covered with soft, golden hair. Her eyes travelled down to his abdomen, perfectly sculpted and proportioned, as the rest of him, revealed below.
She sighed deeply. For a split second, in the vertigo of emotions tangled in her soul, a trace of insecurity and fear of the unknown shadowed her euphoric state.
But when she felt him close, massive and hard, all rational thoughts turned to smoke and dissipated in the moonlight, leaving the two solitary figures in the night to become one, enraptured by passion’s abyss.
He stretched above her and she thrived on feeling his weight, absorbing his warmth. He used the pad of his thumb to trace her lips softly, then he kissed her thoroughly. His tongue explored her mouth, his teeth nipping playfully at her lower lip.
Just the intensity of his kisses and the feel of his solid, naked body over her made her head spin. But her desire took on new dimensions when he shifted and his mouth started to slide down her body. He kissed her breasts, caressing them softly until her nipples tightened and rose, as though beggi
ng for more. She arched her back and he sucked gently at every peak, until her breaths grew choppy.
He didn’t stop there. His hands descended lower on her body, followed by his mouth. His tongue traced the lines of her body, down to her navel, which he kissed ardently, making her gasp. When his lips continued their way down, she was too stunned to move. She couldn’t have moved anyway. His strong fingers held her hips, as his mouth went seeking for the hottest and most sensitive part of her body.
At the first stir of his breath over her, she moaned involuntarily, then all reason left her. She clutched hands full of the sheets and of his hair, while his lips and tongue flickered over the gem of her femininity. She was helpless to do anything but surrender, and she did.
Her tummy felt weightless, her skin feverish. Under the thrilling assault of his mouth, her body quickened and she cried out his name as the explosive release claimed her. She was skyrocketing with the speed of light, even as her vision darkened. With mindless abandon, she let go.
A few moments later, she was still breathing hard, her entire body trembling with the reverberations of her orgasm. Gerard stretched out beside her to give her a few needed moments. He stroked her cheek gently and she barely managed to turn her head to look at him. The moonlight was enough to reveal the tender expression in his eyes. It took her aback, and would have probably scared her if she weren’t so dazed.
He smiled at her, still cupping her cheek as he bent to kiss her softly. When he angled her body toward him, she felt his hardness against her middle. To her own amazement, waves of desire she thought were spent started to ripple through her again.
“Touch me,” he whispered urgently against her lips.
She placed a timid hand onto his muscled chest, sprinkled with just the right amount of hair. Curiosity, as much as lust, made her explore further. When she found one of his nipples, she rubbed it with the tip of one finger, making it tighten. His short intake of breath encouraged her and her palm ran over his abdomen. She felt the muscles there tense. She hesitated just a fraction of a second, before she reached even lower. They both gasped when she touched him, and he firmed his grip on her hips.
He was perfect—hard, smooth and ready. Her hand grew bolder; her own breath came out faster, mixing with his. She folded her fingers around him, then squeezed and massaged, up and down, until a low sound vibrated into his chest.
He pushed her onto her back and rolled on top of her, kissing her hungrily. His hands ran freely over her body, without restraint or discipline. He sent his tongue deep into her mouth, as he eased himself into her. She felt weak with the delicious, stretching pressure of having him inside her. Then, the immense pleasure of it took over and she rose her hips to meet his every thrust.
He pushed high, hard and fast, driven by untamed, primal desire, until they were both seized by a shattering orgasm. Through the roar in her ears, she heard him call her name hoarsely. Then she closed her eyes and let herself be swallowed by the vortex of exquisite sensations.
Chapter Six
Gerard’s senses were the first to awake. He felt her scent, permanently stamped in his mind. Then he became aware of the silk sheets surrounding him and of the empty place occupied in the night by the nymph of his dreams. Could it be that he’d only dreamed?
He opened his eyes, studying the room he was seeing for the first time in daylight. A feminine room with light-blue walls, honey-colored furniture and pastel curtains.
So it hadn’t been a dream. He’d really had her beside him last night, receiving from her the same passion that had burned in him since he’d met her.
A movement he caught in his peripheral vision made him jerk defensively. Pirata had jumped onto the bed with cattish impudence, and was coming close to sniff him. Judging by his insistent meows, he was probably asking about breakfast.
Gerard rubbed his chin, now covered by stubble, and then stroked the cat’s head.
“If you want food, you’re on your own, mate. If you tell me where I can find your lovely mistress, I could put in a good word for you.”
As expected, the cat stared at him with steady blue eyes, but the interrogative sound he issued didn’t seem to divulge his mistress’s location, only his own feline interests.
“Yeah…”
Gerard recovered his clothes from the floor and decided to take a quick shower in Linda’s bath. As the towels were damp, he suspected she’d done the same.
How the hell didn’t I wake up? he asked himself, surprised. Since childhood, he’d been a very light sleeper, always in a semi-alert state. The answer, however, was going to remain a mystery.
Freshly showered, he pulled on his pants and went off in search of Linda. After having inspected every room in the house, he spotted her through one of the living room’s windows. She was in the gazebo she’d told him she used as a workshop.
He found the back door ajar and went outside. The backyard resembled a miniature jungle, luxuriant, but far from being unkempt. He walked barefoot through the silky grass, ignoring the rough path that meandered between the house and the small wooden gazebo.
As he got closer, he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. Even like this, dressed in rough work-clothes and wearing thick gloves, her hair carelessly knotted on top of her head, she looked lovely. She was wielding a chisel with amazing dexterity on the wooden surface she was carving.
“Is that a hand or am I imagining?” he asked.
Linda didn’t even flinch, continuing to adjust, then to polish.
“Yep. Do you like it?”
She moved aside so he could better see the two hands, their wrists rising from a square wooden base.
“It’s great,” he answered, truly impressed. “You have an extraordinary talent at sculpting, among other things.”
He turned her to him and took the chisel from her hand, placing it on the table. He drew her close, wrapping his arms around her and she melted against him.
They kissed deeply, the past night’s revelations still hovering between them. She smiled shyly.
“They’re your hands,” she said. Reading the astonishment on his face, she elaborated, “I’m fascinated by your hands. They’re so strong, agile, capable of saving lives and…of offering a woman unimaginable sensations.”
A satisfied smile widened on his face.
“So I wasn’t the only one who experienced unimaginable sensations…I thought I’d dreamed.”
Linda shook her head, draping her arm around his neck.
“If you dreamed, it means we both had the same dream.”
When they reached the house, Pirata greeted them with a loud, reproachful caterwauling. Linda picked him up and walked into the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry, darling! I forgot about your food.” She stroked his head soothingly. “I’ll make it up to you right now, promise.”
She put him down, opened a can of succulent cat food and served his meal outside on the veranda.
“What would you like to eat?” she asked Gerard when she got back into the kitchen.
“I’m not especially hungry, but I wouldn’t say no to some of that Caramel Cream, if there’s any left.”
“Of course. I always order extra portions. There’s a small restaurant pretty close from here that serves delicious food.”
So saying, she got the cream bowl out of the fridge and emptied the contents into two small bowls. She filled another one with fresh strawberries, then placed everything on the counter.
“Thank you. I could get used to such pampering,” he said, coming up behind her to slide his arms around her waist, with an intimacy reserved for steady couples and long-term relationships. She tensed slightly, making him think this gesture had triggered a vague trace of alarm in her mind. He hoped that in time he’d manage to chase away all the doubts dwelling in her soul, using patience and tenderness as his weapons.
“Sit down and let’s eat,” she prompted, gently caressing his bare chest, her eyes locked on it. She was seeing him half-naked for the fi
rst time in daylight. If he weren’t mistaken, that was generating feelings that normally should have been exhausted after a night of lovemaking.
He felt the same. Now he wanted her more than ever, and not only sexually. The image of them, together in her house gave him a sensation of good, of fulfillment.
They sat at the counter savoring breakfast. Soon, Pirata joined them, full and quiet.
“What are your plans for today?” she asked.
“Well, after we finish eating, I’ll go to the clinic. How about you?”
“I want to finish sculpting what I began this morning. Your hands. It’s a record for me. I’ve never finished anything so quickly. Then, I’ll take it to Francesco at the gallery, for display only, not for sale. I know I’m coming up with this at the last moment, but I’m fairly sure he won’t complain.”
Gerard looked at her fondly, his lips stretching into a smile.
“I feel flattered, you know…I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just hope you’ll like the final product.”
“I already do, you can be sure of that.”
When they finished eating, he remembered something.
“Oh, I have to go home and change first. Although I’ve used your shower, as far as I can remember, my shirt is unwearable in the crumbled state I’ve left it, lying on the floor.”
She smiled and rose.
“Let’s see if I can remedy it, somehow.”
They both entered the sunbathed bedroom. Clothes were strewn everywhere. The sheets were tangled in a sensual mess, which carried the vivid memory of the night they’d shared.
She threw a rapid glance toward the bed. As if embarrassed, she bent awkwardly to pick up clothes and straighten the room.
He took them from her hand and threw them down again. He drew her to him, cupping her chin between his fingers. He angled her head back until she met his eyes.
“Look at me,” he said gently. ”Why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?” she asked his Adam’s apple.
“As though we’re two strangers. As though you regret or want to forget everything that’s happened between us.”