“Isabel I need you, I want you now” Marc’s guttural voice is bursting with desire.
Pulling me instantly to my feet, I then take a pace back, so that my back is now straight against the wall and the spray from the shower cascades down in between us. Marc bends at the knee, reaches down for one of my legs and lifts it until it is high enough to wrap around him. With his other hand he positions the hard head of his cock at the opening between my thighs, slowly pushing into me a bit at a time. I grip on to his shoulders for both balance and control, as the heightening gratification gushes through my body. With his thumb Marc strokes my clitoris and pushes until the full length of him is inside me, I claw my nails into his tough skin as I shift to accommodate him. Once he sets the rhythm, we start to move together; Marc thrusts deep and hard until he is almost hitting my womb. It is the most intense pleasure mixed with pain, and I don’t want it to stop. Marc increases the tempo of our love making, each time pushing me up and I am aware of my imminent orgasm building. Getting ever closer to release, I need to taste him up on my lips.
“Kiss me Marc, please.” As an answer to my request, Marc pulls on my silky wet hair and brings his mouth over mine in search of my tongue, at the same time never once decreasing in his movement. It doesn’t take long for that to be my undoing and I clench around him as my orgasm rips through me. Releasing his mouth from mine, every muscle in Marc’s body tenses as he spills into me, spurting once, twice, three times. The look of sexual gratification on Marc’s face is obvious and he brings his head down, resting his forehead against mine. The current from his heavy breathing wafts across my hot, damp skin as we try to bring ourselves back down from the high state we were at. My pulse felt as though it went through the roof and so it takes a little time to get back to normal. Eventually Marc gently pulls out of me and places delicate kisses on to my nose and head.
“What am I going to do when this week is over Isabel? How am I going to be able to let you go when I feel the emotions I do for you?” There is a tinge of sadness in what he says. So I cup his face in my hands and fix my eyes on to his.
“I thought that it would me saying those words first not you, but why do you have to let me go Marc? I don’t see why you have to let me go at all. I will be here for how ever long you want me. I have not wanted to tell you before now of how I was feeling, for the fear of driving you away. However I think if I told you now that I care for you immensely and don’t want to let go of you, would that help?”
Marc shrouds me in his arms, resting his chin up on my head and I feel him take in a deep breath and slowly release it.
“Jesus Isabel. I don’t know yet how this is going to work with you living here and me in the US, but by God I am going to find a way. We will figure it out sweetheart, one way or another. In the meantime I want to spend as much time with you as physically possible. I am not going to let you go now or ever, not now that I know you feel the same.”
There’s a breaths pause before Marc continues.
“Isabel as a start, will you move your belongings and clothes into here please? I really can’t see you spending another night back in your room? I need to have you here with me.”
To stop myself from running on the spot with excitement, I hug Marc closer.
“I would love to Mr Sanders. What do you reckon to me getting on to that straight away because I think if we stand under this water any longer, we are going to end up looking like a pair of shrivelled up prunes?”
Marc laughs out loud, “Indeed, I don’t think you would appreciate any part of me shrivelled Miss Chambers. Come on; let me dry you. The sooner you move your stuff in here, the sooner we can open the wine.”
Chapter 12
“Hey, what did the manager say, was he Ok about it?” Marc heads over to me with a welcomed glass of Moet and Chandon Brut Champagne as I let myself into our room with the spare key card. How he had managed to buy the bottle without me noticing I will never know. It was probably during one of my many ‘away with the fairies’ moments which he seems to be recognising more and more. So much for me wanting to enjoy a supermarket bought bottle of wine, he really couldn’t help himself could he? I inwardly sigh and smile to myself.
“Oh! He was absolutely fine. I think it was your generous contribution for the inconvenience that helped cushion the situation and you really didn’t have to do that you know.”
I glare at him for going at such lengths to help me move in with him. “Mind you saying that, I am not sure they have come across such a strange request before. Two guests meeting just four days ago and now sharing the same room. From outside the box, it is a bit unusual.”
Scowling at the bottle in his hand, Marc hands me the champagne flute, “I don’t think they have had many people buy a bottle of their champagne either, as I am sure they had to remove an inch of dust from the bottle before bringing it up from the cellar.”
I can’t help but giggle at his observations; it is so like him, “Ah! So that is where this came from. I wouldn’t have expected that the hotel would have housed such an expensive bottle of bubbly, looks like I have been proven wrong. Anyway do we have something to celebrate then Mr Sanders?”
Picking up his own drink, Marc answers complacently, “I believe we have Miss Chambers. I would like to raise a toast. Here is to us, a new found friendship and relationship and long may it continue.” We clink glasses and take a sip of the delectable bubbles.
A relationship! Is that what we have now? A relationship! It suddenly dawns on me. Despite my heart now hammering away, I need to look at this realistically. I can’t rush in to this, as much as I would like to, I just can’t. I have already been left broken hearted and I am not going to go there again. Then again, I suppose you could say that there are all manners of ways you can see a relationship, we certainly have a sexual one and care for one another. So am I over thinking this? It is something I have a terrible habit of doing sometimes and it only ruins the occasion or worse. Yes I am, come on Chambers; you are finally having fun and have the company of this cute guy. So I echo Marc’s toast.
“Here’s to us Mr Sanders and the beginning of a wonderful friendship. Now where’s the popcorn and Belgium chocolates?”
“I thought you would never ask Miss Chambers.”
I do have a soft spot for Brit Flicks, especially Brit Chick Flicks and have watched the majority of them several times over. I guess it’s the Mr Darcy’s, that I swoon over and the clumsy female singletons I can relate to that do it for me. It’s the same with my books, but I do like a bit of spice added to those as you know. It is unusual then to find a man who will sit through a film like those with me and he does honestly seem to be enjoying it. I do have a sneaking suspicion he would rather be engrossed in Goodfella’s, Blade or something along those lines though; which makes him all the more adorable in my book!
Sometime later I am woken by Marc tickling the soles of my feet, which are on his lap. “Hey, come on sleepy head, I think it’s time we went to bed.”
Stretching I look over at the clock and it’s showing just after midnight. Flopping backwards on to the sofa, I fling an arm across my face. I remember watching all of Bridget Jones and vaguely seeing the beginning to I Am Legend, to which I must have nodded off to. I am not saying it was a boring film by any means, I expect it was more due to the exertion of the day, plus having the shower and champagne; all of that is a big enough cocktail to send anyone off to sleep; to say that it has been one hell of a ‘rollercoaster ride’ sort of day would be an understatement. Marc starts shaking my legs to rouse me again, so I sit up and lean my heavy head against him, not able to open my tired eyes properly.
Wearily I ask him. “How long have I been out for?”
Draping an arm across my shoulders, Marc pulls me closer to him. “A couple of hours I would say. It wasn’t until I heard you snoring your head off, that I realised you had drifted off.”
Shrieking like a raving banshee I playfully hit Marc in the stomach, “I do not snore!” We
ll if his plan was to wake me up properly, he has certainly done that now.
“I do not snore!” I repeat, trying to convince him and myself that I am right.
Marc just laughs, “And how would you know Miss Chambers, you are a sleep? It is me that had to put up with the incessant noise whilst attempting to watch a film.”
I know he’s only joking, but I still hit him again and pout.
“A battered and bruised lover, what will people think?” I freeze. It only took two words for my body to freeze to the seat. Marc must notice how rigid I have become.
“Hey Izzy I’m joking honestly. I know you were just messing around.”
I can’t stop the cold air that rapidly descends over my body and have to wrap my arms tightly around myself to keep warm. I feel stupid, it has been four years since He was put away for what he did and yet memories of him still give me the chills. I know they say time heals, but how long is that? The physical bruises may have vanished a long time ago, but the mental one’s still insist on hanging around that little bit longer.
“Isabel, come here.” Marc encircles me in his arms and soothingly rubs my arms. “I wasn’t serious in what I said you know. I think I know you well enough by now, to know that you would never seriously do anything like that.”
I huff at myself, as I can be such a twerp sometimes. I refer back to me saying I over think things sometimes. “No I know Marc, it’s me and I am being silly. Come on Mr Sanders, my pillow is calling and some good old fashioned ‘spooning’ is in order I reckon.”
Tonight is the first time I witness that Marc does actually wear pyjama bottoms to bed. The light blue cotton clings low on his hips, which in my opinion, makes him look even sexier than if he was totally starkers! My eyes are drawn to the V of his stomach again and the glimpse of dark hair. Yep! I’m biting my lip also.
Snuggling under the duvet, it doesn’t take either of us long to drop off to sleep. I use Marc’s deep slow breathing as a means to help me relax and curl up, back into his naked torso. As the night goes on I dream of a not so good past.
Chapter 13
“Would you like tea or coffee Isabel?” As I hear Marc’s voice travel from the sitting room and into the bedroom, I cannot describe to you the feeling I am getting as I sit styling my hair; it is a whole mixture of excitement, lust, happiness and so much more. I know I have woken to him before, but for some reason it’s different this morning. There was a turning point in our friendship last night, so much of a turn in fact we are apparently in a relationship now. My stomach swishes about at the words. When I was younger I used to write in a diary which I still have, I contemplate starting up another one so that I can record all of these emotions.
“I’ll have a cup of tea please Marc. Milk, no sugar!” I call back.
Waking just after six, we have both showered, Mmm! Showered…… Erm! Yes, sorry, where was I? Marc is dressed in a grey tweed 3-piece suit, white shirt, burgundy tie and he looks every bit the “Alluring Professor”. Jeez, my heart is racing away, I don’t know about yours! Staring at my reflection in the mirror as I style my hair, I have time to mull over what life has thrown at me. Ok so I am a single mother and sometimes I have felt like I wanted to cry because, that even though I am incredibly lucky to have Joseph and James, I am often lonely, that was until now. My love life has either been none existent, rubbish or violent, again that was until now. That’s all part of my past, my history and it is one piece of history I will not be looking back on. I chew on my nail as I envisage my future, could Marc be a part of mine and the boys future. I explained to Marc one evening, that even though I would like to find a lover, best friend and soul mate; the boys don’t need another father. They had one of those and he did a really shitty job; again excuse the language. To have a positive male role model in their lives however, can only benefit them. How cool would that be!
Just as I muse over that scenario Marc comes into the room, stands behind me and places his hands on to my shoulders. Seeing the both of us in the striking picture looking back at us, I start to hope and pray a little that my future continues on this positive journey. Kissing the side of my bared neck, I note the smoothness of his chin upon my skin; Marc then squeezes my shoulders.
“Come on Miss Chambers. Your tea is getting cold and if you want to do everything you have planned for today, we need to get a move on.”
It’s just over four years ago now that the boys and I relocated back up to the Midlands, having lived down here for nearly five years; I loved living in the town. We were close to Cambridge, Bury St Edmunds and London is only an hour’s drive away, but we also have the fusion of old and new village life not five minutes away. I made some wonderful friends through work and the children, so to have been forced to give all of that up broke my heart. Before I came down I arranged to meet up with an old friend whose sons used to hang out with Joseph and that is what I shall be doing for lunch today and I cannot wait to see her. Regardless of distance and time apart, Erin and I have always remained in touch, which I am so pleased about.
“I am almost done Mr Sanders. Thank you very much for the cuppa, I will leave eating breakfast though and then you won’t be late either.”
In a very authoritative tone Marc replies, “Erm! I don’t think so, you need to eat something. I’ll grab a few pieces of fruit for you to have either in the car or once you get there. I am not having you pass out through not eating properly.”
Instinctively I roll my eyes at him. He is so domineering, I love it! “And don’t think I didn’t catch that Miss Chambers.” Marc teases. “Continue to roll your eyes at me and I may have to teach you a lesson.”
Rolling my eyes at him again, I wait for his reaction and Yup! There it is; the raising of one eyebrow. A wave of nervous excitement sweeps through me, as I know I am pushing my luck a little bit with him. However, inside I am really hoping that it is a promise and not just an idle threat on his part.
Not changing his tone one iota Marc’s face turns seriously wicked, “If that is how you want to play the game Miss Chambers, so be it. I hope you realise now that it is my turn next and I don’t always play fair.”
Leaving me on my own I gulp at the words he left me with and curse to myself. Have I pushed him too far? All of a sudden I can’t judge the situation or air that has developed between us, which in a sadistic way arouses me. Chambers, you must be mad, what has gotten into you? Two words, Marc Sanders, literally.
As he said he would, Marc has put a banana and an apple in my bag. Yes you heard right, he doesn’t give them to me; he has placed them in my bag himself, in order that I don’t forget them no doubt. I take a sideways glance at him, when I see he isn’t facing me & I lick my tongue out. Sheesh! Who is the parent here, I’ll be having a packed lunch made for me next?
“And you can put that tongue away as well Miss Chambers. I would hate for you to damage such a vital part of your body that you have already proven can be used very efficiently in all of its duties.”
Whose turn is it to raise their eyebrows now? I open my mouth to say something back, but I am left speechless. Flaring my nostrils instead, I go back to sorting my bag out.
“Thank you for the fruit Marc. I will eat one in the car and save the other for later if that’s Ok?”
“That is absolutely fine, as long as you eat something Isabel.” The tone in his voice has changed from one of someone being strict to one of being concerned. Internally I wave the white flag. I know he is only thinking about me and it will take some getting used to, but like everything else in this relationship, I will get there.
The drive to Bury St. Edmunds takes around thirty minutes. There is only one main road that takes us there from where we are staying and seeing as we are in the heart of the countryside, we get stuck behind either lorries on their way to Folkstone or tractors trundling along. Which ever one is in front of us; Marc huffs at not being able to put his foot down on the accelerator. Wanting to break the silence that is in the car and hopefully take contro
l of Marc’s frustration, I switch his ipod on to get some soulful tunes playing in the background. I will admit I was expecting a bit of old Jazz to filter from the speakers and so to hear the husky, deep what I take to be American voice singing to the strains of an electric guitar with slight country and western twang; I was a little surprised at. I settle back in the seat listening to the lyrics- “Only God will judge me……I’m dammed if I don’t and dammed if I do……I’ve got a heart of glass. I’ve got a heart of gold. I’ve got a heart of stone…” Please don’t ask me why, but a single tear escapes from my eye. Is this the torment, the struggle that Marc has been experiencing and fighting, with Emelie and Stefano? No matter which way he chose to go with this situation, he was going to hurt somebody he cared for. In the end he has kept by his morals and standards throughout and so he should not feel that he will be judged wrongly for the decision he has made. I reach for Marc’s hand that is resting on the gear stick and hold on to his fingers. As the song began to fade out I turned to Marc.
“Who was singing the song? I’ve not heard it before.”
“A Canadian group called One Road. They’ve been around for a bit now, nearly two decades on and off I reckon. I have not seen them live, but would like to.” I see Marc smiling. I can tell he loves his music just as much as I do and I am sure it plays as big a part in his life as well. I thought I had an eclectic taste, but this does surprise me, in a good way I have to add.
An Acute Attraction Page 10