FLAWLESS

by Leena Varghese

  “Of course, you did! That is why it hurts you so much!” She touched the moisture at the corner of his eye.

  “Not the way I should have loved her. It was a relationship based on practicalities. We were happy, at least in the beginning, and yet we didn’t share that bond...” he paused, looking inward, “A connection that I sometimes see in other couples. I missed the passion, empathy, instinctive bonding, and laughter. I wonder why we didn’t have that. Were we so busy in our material pursuits that we did not have the time for that kind of love or build a loving relationship? Was Eva also aware of what she was missing? Could we have healed the cracks in our relationship? Questions that torment me...that I cannot answer now, even if I wanted to!”

  “They are useless questions, Max. You loved your wife in your own way. You made mistakes. But you had something special that many couples don’t have. You had stability and security,” Giana consoled him, knowing that she herself had craved for those two things. “Most people live a lifetime on these two factors that hold a marriage together. It removes unwanted risks and keeps our children safe. Different folks, different strokes. We all want different things from each other, at different times of our lives. At the end of a bad day if there is someone to lean upon, a companion who offers a shoulder to cry on, then your problems would become smaller.”

  He looked down at Giana bleakly for long moments, his eyes glowing with an emotion that they had never voiced openly. It hovered between them, thrumming with life. A vital force, intangible and infinite flared between them, connecting them together forever.

  “How old are you? A hundred and fifty?” he asked, his face now of a broken man trying hard to look dignified. His thumb brushed her chin.

  “Maybe...” she replied, her eyes beginning to water again for she had arrived upon her conclusions, having experienced life at painfully close quarters.

  “Is that what you wanted with Ricky?” he asked huskily, drawing her closer to him.

  “I don’t know what I wanted with Ricky. I was just trying to escape into some foolish romantic world of excitement and fun.”

  “You were too young to make a responsible decision.”

  “Maybe. But yes, I would have wanted security and stability from my spouse in the long run. Life is so unpredictable. Isn’t it what everyone wants? A steady, secure relationship that sees us through thick and thin?” She felt her heart break for him. “I am sorry for you, Max, for the pain you went through. At least I have my son with me. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose him. I know how Mamma feels...after losing two of the most important people in her life...”

  The eviscerating image of a child’s death and the irreparable loss was too painful to bear. A sob escaped her throat.

  “Giana...My sweet, Giana, don’t cry for me!”

  “I can’t bear to see you in pain!” she cried the hoarse words in a breathless rush, unable to suppress the love that poured through her eyes.

  Max’s fragile control shattered to smithereens. His arms closed around her, hauling her up against him to look into her tearful face. His own countenance was deeply etched, reflecting her sorrow. Something broke free inside him, a primal call that slammed through his feeble defences. One look at her and all his resolutions were blown away in the wake of that ferocious tide of desire and the need to wipe out the relentless acid pain eating into him.

  He wanted her so much that nothing seemed to matter anymore. His mouth came crashing down on hers without warning and she could only gasp as Max kissed her hungrily, devouring her lips to obliterate the demons that hounded him. She kissed him back, helpless and limp as a rag doll in his feral embrace, reeling under the brutal onslaught of that raging passion. She forgot everything except the blinding need to assuage what she had felt for him since she had met him. The wild night outside the window could never match up with what she felt for Max. It swept away every sensible thought in its wake.

  Words were superfluous. Max could never describe the sheer ebullience he experienced at the touch of her soft lips. He kissed her, hard and demanding, and was immersed in the heady sweetness of her mouth. Giana was pressed so close to him that she could feel her entire length tremble against his muscled body. Cupping her head closer, he drank from her mouth like a man lost and wandering through the parched desert, like he had suddenly stumbled upon an oasis. He fell headlong into its rejuvenating depths, uncaring whether he survived or not.

  Giana had never felt such pure, wild sensations course through her. Her relationship with Ricky had not taught her to be a woman. The brief period of flirtatious, shallow affair that had changed the course of her life had never given her this feeling of bonding with the man she loved. She had never known what love was until Max had walked into her life. She knew now the way men and women should be, with the intricate ties of commitment and trust enveloping them. A bond so tenuous and beautiful that she melted in joy as he swept her into his arms, bending her backwards to slake the thirst that was carrying them to a desperately needed fulfilment.

  Max didn’t know whether it was the distant roar of the sea he heard, or the roar of the heated blood in his head. Along with it rang out the incessant thought that this was what he had wanted from Eva all along. This mindless, visceral passion that had him nearly sink to his knees in front of Giana. He raised his head for a moment to stare at her angelic face that looked translucent in the surreal storm-light filtering through the window. The flash of lightning and the distant thunder lit up the beautiful, generous woman in his arms. How could she look so ethereal and earthy at the same time, he wondered. His trembling hand sifted through the thick, silken curls that spilled upon her shoulders. His fingers dug into her hair and he caught a fistful, inhaling deeply the scent of rain-drenched vanilla that hit him at his weakest spot. He groaned, burying his face in her throat; his mouth tasted that sensitive spot under her ear, then slid along the soft texture and latched on to the frantic pulse at the base of her throat.

  Giana gave out a choked cry, her arms wrapped around his neck, cradling his head against her breast, holding on as though to the mast of a storm-tossed ship with tattered sails. The only thing that seemed solid in a crumbling world was this man in her arms. She forgot everything when Max whipped her around to flatten her against the wall and kiss her in a frenzied renewal of passion.

  The taste and scent of her was intoxicating. He caught her wrists and raised them above her head and she let go of herself in wild abandon, leaving herself open to the kisses he was showering on her face and throat, down to the valley between her breasts. His masculine frame shuddered as it connected with her softer one from chest to thigh. He stepped closer, one muscled leg between her parted ones. The wall behind, felt mercifully solid and cool compared to the flash of heat that was escalating between them. His ravenous mouth took hers again and again, his hands everywhere, in the excitement of discovering every inch of her feminine curves beneath the silken sheath she wore.

  When Max slid down the zipper of her lovely gown, Giana was too befuddled to understand the significance of his action. Her hands came down to the front of his shirt and grabbed the fabric in instinctive response. Her clumsy fingers were all thumbs as she undid the buttons swiftly and parted the material to touch his chest, palms against his warm, velvet skin, utterly decapitated by the love that swept through her. She placed a string of tender kisses on his throat and chest, and wherever she could reach all over his muscular torso.

  Max closed his eyes in sheer delight, the sweetness of her touch more arousing than anything he had known. He was in the grip of such blazing desire that all he could think was to sink into her and lose himself forever. He had never felt the need to even look at another woman since Eva’s death. But this was way beyond his control. This ferocious need to lose himself in Giana.

  Giana could hardly stand on her weak knees when the silky fabric slipped to her waist. Her breath went shallow; her gaze held by Max’s intense, dark eyes following the vision of sheer, breathtaki
ng beauty being revealed by the slithering dress. He slid the wispy sleeves down quickly with trembling hands, revealing her creamy skin to his famished gaze. But Giana couldn’t hold that look for long, as Max bent his head to slide a trail of kisses on the crook of her bare shoulder all the way down to the slopes of her breasts. She gasped, blending her hands into his damp hair when he took her mouth again, kissing her senseless once more. Max didn’t want to wait any longer. He couldn’t. He wanted her now.

  He swung her up in his arms and laid her on the single bed that they had desperately tried to ignore earlier. She fell back, bouncing on the cushions, her gown half undone, her glossy curls spread on the pillows and Max felt the surge of pure love engulf his senses. He ripped his shirt off his shoulders and his belt came off next. His unsteady hands refused to work as they fiddled with the zipper of his trousers, all flexing muscles and fierce impatience at the sight of his woman splayed on the bed like an offering.

  His woman...the words were freshly minted...branding his heart like a vow.

  Giana raised her arms in invitation, her eyes glazed with tears, and Max lost whatever bit of control he had. He launched himself towards her, his trousers still on, and fell on top of her, crushing her beneath his weight. She cried out in relief, welcoming the heavy heat of his body that wrapped her like a cocoon. Once more, he showered kisses on her, his mouth ravishing hers, his hands cradling her breasts lovingly. His mouth slid down kissing and suckling as she arched in joyful welcome. He explored the sensitive spots with loving hands, fingers grazing, sometimes gentle, sometimes insistent when she pleaded that it was not enough. He bucked under her eager hands, when she returned the pleasure he was giving her. They kissed and touched without a thought for the past or the future, trapped within the maelstrom that blew up every scrap of sane thought.

  She felt his hands lower the gown further and caress the wanton flare of hips to draw her closer to his aroused body. She was heat and silk, as she wrapped a slender leg around him instinctively. His hand reciprocated by clamping around her thigh sliding upwards savouring the pure satin skin. He ached to kiss her all over at a slower pace. Did he miss that little indentation on her waist? He must kiss that immediately. She trembled when he set his mouth to the sliver of tender skin beneath her belly-button. His hands curved around her hips to lift her to him. And all the while she cried incoherent words that were wrenched from her, as she lay at the mercy of his demanding touch.

  The pleasure that racked her body let loose such a blast of reaction from Max that he reared up and gathered her close to his chest, pinning her beneath him. It was agony, struggling to stay afloat. The rest of their clothes refused to budge as they grappled with his trousers and her tangled dress at the same time, their mouths fused together.

  Max was in the process of extricating her from her dress, pressing moist kisses all the way down, when the sounds of the pattering feet of children and peals of laughter in the corridor outside, grabbed Giana’s attention. The delicate touch of his mouth on her thigh stilled her, drawing her fractured awareness back to him.

  The gravity of what they were doing shattered the haze that had enveloped her. Her eyes strayed to his finger tracing the signs of motherhood on her stomach. Max was completely absorbed and enchanted by her delicate skin.

  A child, outside, wailed and was hushed by its mother. It was enough to diffuse the stormy desire that had blazed through Giana like a bushfire only moments ago. Her vacant eyes stared at the ceiling. She noticed the tacky plaster and the brassy lights, the scarlet metallic shaded curtains, and the synthetic bed linen.

  Her thoughts raced back to Toby. Toby, the centre of her life! Everything she thought and did would affect him. She could not do that to her baby. Her skin was suddenly clammy with fear.

  Max was instantly aware of the searing tension that rippled through the feminine body beneath him.

  “Giana...?” he whispered, framing her face as she turned to look at the closed door, her eyes wide in shock. “What is it, darling?” He bent his head to take her mouth in a heart-melting, probing kiss.

  Giana whimpered as though in pain. She tore her mouth away from his and let out a stricken cry, “No!”

  The word sliced through them neatly, cutting the union in half. Max went still, staring at her tight countenance, noticing her hands fall away from his shoulders to grip the bed sheet.

  “Giana?” he breathed her name as though it were a lifeline. “Did I hurt you, sweetheart?” He touched the faint redness on her shoulder, placing a string of butterfly kisses where the delicate skin was marked by the scrape of his stubble. “I am sorry! I was impatient...I just went berserk!”

  He rose a little on his elbows giving her the space to shift, easing away from her. He ran a gentle hand through her hair and framed her cheeks, touching her tenderly. But she lay motionless; her eyes squeezed shut, tears pouring, and her face twisted in mortification.

  “Please tell me that you want me!” Max pleaded hoarsely.

  She stirred from her stricken state and whimpered again. “I can’t...do this!”

  “Why not?” His voice grew deeper as frustration gave way to anger. “Tell me that I was not mistaken about what we feel for each other.”

  A shredded sob escaped her throat. “I can’t...Max...I am sorry!”

  He rose abruptly, muttering a fierce expletive under his breath. His hands flipped back the front of her gown, effectively covering her. She clutched it close with one hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was painful to watch her crumble to dust. It made him feel helpless. He swung away, taking with him all the warmth and sustenance that had enveloped her, like the sun being taken out of her sky. Her sobs turned deeper, racking her body at the terrible sense of loss that gnawed at her.

  “Don’t cry!” he snapped. “I am not the type to force myself on a woman!”

  “I never said that you were, Max,” she sobbed, hurt that he had misunderstood.

  “Then why...?” He turned bewildered eyes on her.

  “I don’t do one-night stands!” she heard herself say.

  Max let out a curse that made her flinch. “I don’t do one-night stands either! You are not a one-night stand for me! This is the first time I have felt this way or touched a woman since my wife died.”

  “It feels...” She groped for the words. “Sordid!”

  “Is that what it was for you all this while?” Max growled, outraged and offended by the ugly word she had used to describe the most intense and beautiful experience of his life.

  “My marriage was a one-night stand in a hotel room in Goa,” Giana cried. “One error in judgement and I went back home betrayed and pregnant! I don’t want to make that same mistake in another tacky hotel room.”

  Max seethed in indignation. “Forgive me, Giana, but it was not my intention either.” He spread his hands expansively and said, “The place and time was never my choice. I was as much carried away by the moment as you were.” He dragged a hand though his hair and looked at her intently. “But for me this was definitely a life-affirming act.”

  Stunned by the wealth of emotion she saw in his dark eyes she felt bereft of the words that had bubbled up earlier.

  “Max...I...”

  “Enough! I got the message,” exploded Max, in sheer offended pride.

  Giana lay there, her fists rubbing her damp eyes, trying to get her bearings on the shifting ground. She rose, holding her gown to her chest and darted a woebegone glance at him.

  Max turned away, picking up his shirt, every line of his body gripped by anger. He shrugged into his shirt and was dressed in a few seething minutes. Ignoring the rustle of her gown and the occasional sniffle, he stood staring out of the window into the night that was similar to the dark void inside him.

  When he finally turned, she was struggling with the zipper at the back, standing in front of the dressing table. He stepped behind her and stilled her hands. Her startled glance met him in the mirror. He ran the zip up in one quick move. But he
refused to move away. Her hair tangled with his fingers at her nape. He lifted the mass of silken curls and kissed the sensitive skin beneath.

  She turned around in a rush and hugged him close and just like that Max was melted and lost. Anger and wounded pride dissolved. They stood holding each other so tight that it could have cracked ribs and firm resolutions. Her sobs broke out again and Max cradled her face in his hands. He couldn’t bear to see her cry.

  “Darling, please talk to me!”

  Giana felt her heart splice in two at the words of endearment that only he could say in that special way...words that she hadn’t heard in a long time from anyone.

  “I don’t want to be called a slut!” she cried out, the wounded look back in her eyes.

  “No one will dare to call you that in my presence,” he growled.

  “You don’t understand, Max! I have already made too many mistakes. And I have lost people I loved and terribly hurt my mother. I will never let my actions hurt Toby. He is all I have. Everything I do affects him. I don’t want him to feel ashamed because of the irresponsible actions of his mother.”

  Max remained mute. Realization dawned. He held her in the sanctuary of his arms. She had been hurt too much. Her reaction was only natural. Her first instinct was to protect her baby. And Max understood that perfectly. Overwhelmed by the powerful flux of emotions rattling him, he stood with her clasped to him protectively.

  She was right! Their first time together should never have been in this tacky hotel. How irresponsible of him! How could he not have thought of the consequences? Where had his brain disappeared? As a responsible adult he should never have initiated the act in the first place without protection. He drew her closer, relieved that he had been able to stop in time.

  The sheer power of their coming together was sacred. There was a time and place for everything. And this was not the right time. There were too many problems that needed solutions first. His trembling hands touched her with renewed reverence.