by Susan Lewis
‘Mmm,’ he groaned, as she squeezed it. Then he was kissing her again with a mounting urgency and passion, until she slipped from his arms and, pushing him onto his back, began kissing her way down over his body.
He lay very still, eyes closed, muscles tensed, as she sucked gently on his balls and stroked him with her tongue. Then she was taking him deep into her mouth, and he was so hard, and she was so good, that within minutes he was dangerously close to losing it, and grabbing her quickly, he rolled her on to her back and lay between her thighs.
It had been so long that she knew it was going to hurt, but she didn’t care, she wanted him so badly she could endure anything except not having him. And when at last he began lowering his hips, watching her as she watched him, the sensation of him filling her started to move her beyond anything she’d known before.
‘Are you OK?’ he murmured.
‘Yes. Oh yes,’ she breathed.
He drew back a little, then pushed in again.
She was so tight that they could both feel the unsurpassable pleasure of him opening her up, slowly, deeply, until finally he was all the way in, then pulling back, he began the exquisite penetration all over again.
‘This is blowing my mind,’ he told her, rocking gently in and out of her. ‘Can you take it any harder?’
‘Oh God, yes,’ she gasped, then cried out as he suddenly slammed all the way in, before slowly easing back, only to slam in hard again.
‘Keep doing that,’ she panted. ‘Oh God, just keep doing that.’
‘Can you come this way?’ he asked, driving even faster and harder.
‘I don’t know. I …’ He changed rhythm, and as he hit the place that would do it, she cried, ‘Yes. Oh God, oh God, yes!’
He rode her brutally, manipulating that place and feeling her match his pace, until suddenly she thrust herself at him so hard that his own climax began erupting violently into the very heart of hers. They clung to each other, shaking and shuddering in the powerful tremors of release, kissing and gasping for breath, jerking their hips, and knowing every moment of each other’s blissful abandon.
A long time later they were stretched out, side by side on the bed, basking in the cooling air from the fan as it drifted over their bodies. The piano had stopped long ago, and the sun had moved round. The crew would arrive soon, if they weren’t already there. Someone would come looking for them, but neither of them made any attempt to get up.
Staring out at the milky white sky Carla knew that this was the moment she’d been dreading, when the mystery of how it might be was over, and she had to admit that her emotions had become entangled with the yearnings of her body. So where did they go from here? She turned to look at him. His eyes were closed, and the shadow on his jaw was darkening. Her heart contracted, but as she started to look away his eyes opened and, reaching up, he turned her face back to his.
‘Let’s eat dinner here. In the room,’ he said.
She nodded, and felt only relief as her eyes fluttered closed and his fingers began trailing over her breasts.
‘They’re even more beautiful than I imagined,’ he told her.
She smiled and watched him stroke and kiss them, his skin seeming so dark against the paleness of hers. She was becoming aroused all over again and knew that he was too. She turned to look at him, then moaned softly as his tongue moved into her mouth.
‘Tell me it doesn’t get any better,’ he said, gruffly, ‘because I don’t think I can handle it if it does.’
Smiling, and rolling on to her side, she said, ‘You know, we could be in danger of allowing this to mean more than we intended.’
He stopped for a moment, then, pulling her in tightly against him, he said, ‘Well, I don’t know what you intended, but I’m in no danger of shying away from what this means to me.’
Chapter 20
EARLY THE FOLLOWING morning Carla left John in the shower and went in search of Avril, whom she’d spoken to on the phone the night before, to ask her if she’d mind finding somewhere else to sleep. Typically of Avril, she hadn’t minded a bit, and had obviously been expecting it, but Carla still felt she owed her an apology.
She found her on one of the main verandas having breakfast alone, her shiny blonde hair being tousled by an ocean breeze, and her mobile phone pinning a couple of faxes to the table next to her tea.
‘Hi,’ Carla said, hugging her from behind, and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘A few of the guys have just gone off to start setting up on the beach,’ Avril answered, ‘and Phoebe’s due to join me any minute.’ Her eyes were already sparkling as she waited for Carla to sit down. ‘So, where’s the man?’ she said.
Carla’s heart swelled, as, unable to control her smile, she said, ‘Still dressing. And listen, I’m really sorry about last night, I should have sorted something out before you got here …’
‘Stop,’ Avril interrupted. ‘It’s all taken care of, and the best of it is, yours truly has ended up with the Flamboyant suite all to herself. It’s next door to yours, by the way, and I should warn you, if I climb up onto the second branch of my eucalyptus tree, then strain my neck around an oleander bush, and manage to keep my balance long enough for the breeze to toss aside a hibiscus, I can see the hammock in your garden. Just in case.’
Carla was laughing. ‘Well, I’m glad it’s worked out,’ she said, as a waiter brought her a glass of fresh pineapple juice and prepared to take her order.
‘Have the lemon grass tea,’ Avril recommended. ‘Paola grows the lemon grass herself, and it’s pretty damned good.’
Going with it, Carla added toast and fresh fruit to the order, then, inhaling deeply the jasmine scent that wafted around them, she let her breath go in a sigh of utter contentment.
‘So, I take it you two had a good time yesterday,’ Avril remarked, pouring more tea into her cup.
Carla’s eyes glowed. ‘An understatement,’ she responded. ‘But it’s not going to get in the way of the shoot. We talked about it last night, and though it’s pointless trying to hide anything from the crew … What are they saying, by the way? I feel so embarrassed for them to know …’
‘Why? They’ve all been expecting it, and half of them probably thought it was already happening. So what was it like? I imagine he’s sensational.’
Able to feel the tenderness inside her, and the strain of reawakened muscles, Carla smiled and said, ‘Avril, I’m not sure that even your vivid imagination can get to just how sensational, but don’t ask me to elaborate on that, because I’m already having a problem getting my mind to stay fixed on the day ahead, and talking about it’s just going to make matters worse. So tell me, who are the faxes from? Is there anything I need to know about?’
Avril shook her head. ‘Not really. Just that I’m staying on in London for another week when we get back. Apparently one of my clients is going to be there from LA, so I should be around to take care of him and his wife.’
‘Well, that’s good news,’ Carla replied, after finishing her juice. ‘The world always feels more complete when you’re in it.’
Avril’s eyebrows went up. ‘Well, I’m so touched,’ she said, mocking her own sincerity. ‘Even if you do make me sound like an extraterrestrial.’
Though Carla laughed, she was already looking over the day’s schedule, calculating how much there was to fit in and how likely it was to be achieved. ‘Only two drama sequences today,’ she commented. ‘I thought there were more. Any idea where costume and make-up are setting themselves up?’
‘No, but the production office is in Frazer and Hugo’s suite, which, I believe, is the Frangipani.’
‘You’re right,’ John confirmed, surprising them both as he came out on to the veranda.
Immediately Carla’s heart turned over, and as she looked up at him, the urge to embrace him was so strong that she had to turn away.
‘Good morning, Avril,’ he said, kissing her on either cheek.
‘Good
morning,’ Avril responded. ‘I won’t ask if you slept well.’
Laughing, he put a hand on the back of Carla’s neck and ran his fingers into her hair.
Carla turned weak, as desire pulled through her like a magnet. Then he was saying to Avril, ‘You won’t mind if I do this, will you?’ and lifting Carla’s chin he covered her mouth lingeringly with his.
Seconds later, as he sat down, Carla said, ‘You’ve got to swear to me you won’t do that when any of the crew are around.’
‘I swear,’ he responded. ‘Now, do you have a copy of today’s script?’
‘Not with me, but the two drama scenes aren’t scheduled until late afternoon.’
‘What about Angelica’s statement to camera? I think that’s up first.’
‘It is, and I haven’t actually written it yet, so I’m going to leave you now to go and get started.’
As she stood up the waiter arrived with her fresh fruit and toast, which she really didn’t want, so telling him to give it to John, she said good morning to Phoebe and Yale who were just arriving, and went off to find Verna. Though her body ached for him to return to the suite with her, she knew he wouldn’t, and was glad, for there was a lot to get through in the next few days that was going to need their full attention. Her decision to stay away from the set as much as she could had to be adhered to, for neither of them needed the distraction.
The morning sped by as she and Verna, working on the veranda of Frazer and Hugo’s production office-cum-suite, scripted Angelica’s first piece to camera, gave it to Hugo’s assistant to run down to the beach, then began collating information from the various hotels they’d stayed at on the island, as well as others they hadn’t. It was a complicated, as well as frustrating job, though it was helped by Carla having some idea of the way John was intending to put it all together. What was hampering her, though, was the way her thoughts kept drifting back to the night before, or down to the beach where the unit was shooting. She guessed she was on his mind too, though thinking that way was only making it harder to focus her attention on matters at hand.
‘This is ridiculous,’ Verna suddenly declared, making Carla jump.
Carla looked up, and was about to apologize, when she realized Verna was looking at her notes.
‘I can’t read my own flipping writing,’ Verna complained. ‘Do you remember the name of the Aga Khan’s hotel in Stone Town? Was it Sedima? No, that doesn’t sound right.’
‘Serena,’ Carla told her, her thoughts returning to where they’d been before her concentration dropped out. ‘The eco-project on Chumbe Island is interesting,’ she said. ‘Do we have anything on it?’
‘They sent us their own video,’ Verna answered. ‘I’ve got it here, in my bag. Haven’t seen it yet though.’
‘Well, we’re never going to make any sense of anything unless we can see it,’ Carla stated. ‘Frazer!’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘Has anyone got the TV and video working yet?’
‘He’s probably with the unit,’ Verna said, when there was no reply from inside. ‘I’ll go and find out what’s happening. Can you take a look at these hotel rates I’ve written down here? They start with beach bungalows, and go all the way up through the scale to here and the Serena. In other words from thirty to three hundred dollars a night, which we need to convert into sterling, then decide which ones we want to feature. We’ve got footage of them all.’
After she’d gone Carla pulled the notes towards her, and was about to get started on the currency conversions when Frazer’s phone rang. It was Jackie from costume wanting to know what time the actors were called this afternoon. The information was on the magnetic board that Frazer never travelled without, so Carla relayed it, then returned to the veranda to carry on where she’d left off. Minutes later she was distracted again, this time by the sound of voices coming from the footpath below the veranda. Recognizing one of them to be Verna’s she didn’t take much notice, until Verna said, ‘… we’re really close to where she is, she’ll hear you.’
‘Well, I’m just saying,’ Rosa responded tartly, ‘I think it’s outrageous the way she’s carrying on, going off for the day like that, and now not even trying to hide the fact they’re sharing a suite. I’d like to hear what she had to say if anyone else did it …’
‘She’d turn a blind eye,’ Verna informed her. ‘I know, because I’ve seen it happen on previous shoots.’
‘Well, that’s as maybe,’ Rosa huffily responded, ‘but I can tell you this, it’s not going to develop into anything, because I happen to know that John Rossmore’s not …’
‘Stop!’ Verna interrupted. ‘I really don’t want to know. OK?’
‘I’m just saying, if she knew …’
‘Don’t!’ Verna snapped. ‘It’s none of my business, and frankly it’s none of yours either.’
Silence followed. Carla stared at her paperwork, fury vying with unease, as Rosa’s words echoed in the warm air. Then her mobile phone rang, making her start. For a moment she only looked at it, until, pulling herself together, she picked it up.
‘At last,’ John said. ‘Where were you?’
Instantly warming to the sound of his voice, she said, ‘Actually I was eavesdropping. Not intentionally, but I was treated to Rosa’s opinion of us sharing a suite.’
He sounded amused as he said, ‘Do I need to know it?’
‘You can probably guess,’ she answered. ‘How’s it going down there?’
‘We’ve just wrapped for lunch, which is why I’m calling. I know you didn’t eat breakfast and must be starving, but I’m driving myself crazy thinking about you here …’
‘You’re not the only one,’ she said. ‘I’ll meet you in the suite as soon as you can get there.’
Five minutes later, as they fell into each other’s arms, anything Rosa might or might not know was forgotten, as were the rules they’d made the night before that forbade all personal contact during the day, for all that mattered then was the precious hour they now had to spend together.
‘I want you so badly,’ he said, pressing kisses to her lips, ‘that I don’t know whether you staying away from the set is making it better or worse. Does it matter if they know what we’re doing?’
‘I don’t know,’ she murmured, her head falling back as his lips moved down over her neck, ‘and right now I don’t care.’
Behind them the phone rang, but neither of them attempted to pick it up as they undressed and collapsed onto the bed, unable to consider anything now beyond the burning needs of their bodies.
Though their passion was quick to climax, the tenderness lingered, holding them together in a tangle of limbs, and intricate fusing of emotions. Through the open French windows they could hear the sough of the ocean mingling with the rustling of palm fronds, and smell the perfumed flowers that clustered around the veranda.
‘Happy?’ he whispered, stroking her hair.
She smiled. ‘You need to ask?’
Her head was resting on his chest, and as she turned to look at him he kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘If only we could just stay here,’ he said.
‘Do you mean for ever, or just the afternoon?’ she teased, though the seriousness of his tone had unsettled her slightly, for it made her think of Rosa’s gossip.
‘If either was an option,’ he said, entwining her fingers with his own, ‘I’d take the first. But since neither is, I’ll just have to make the most of you while I can.’
Her heart gave a twist of unease. ‘Does that mean we stop seeing each other when we get back?’ she said, struggling to keep her smile.
He frowned in surprise. ‘Is that how it sounded? Because it’s not what I meant.’
‘Good,’ she said, relaxing and lifting a hand to his face.
Turning his mouth into her palm he kissed it, then, wrapping her in his arms, he said, ‘Do you feel we’re in danger of going too fast with this?’
‘Probably,’ she answered.
‘Does it bother you?’
‘I’m not sure. Yes, I suppose it does in a way. What about you?’
He sighed, and squeezed her. ‘Lying here with you now, nothing bothers me,’ he said.
Over the next couple of days, though Carla was occasionally tempted to confront Rosa and ask her what she’d been about to tell Verna, she resisted, not only because she didn’t want to give Rosa the satisfaction of knowing she was concerned, but because she so detested the idea of going behind John’s back. If she asked anyone, it should be him, and the reason she didn’t was because she wanted to believe in him, and trust him, and not let her insecurities drive her to making a fool of herself. On the other hand, she’d made a terrible mistake with trust in the past, so she should at least discuss it with Avril.
‘Well, there’s bound to be a lot more to him than either of us know,’ Avril admitted, when Carla told her what she’d overheard, ‘there is to everyone, but we both know John’s no Richard. In fact, they could hardly be more different. And as for Rosa, take it from me, anything she knows about John she’s learned from the press. Which would be why she said it wouldn’t go anywhere, because that’s his reputation. But you know very well that he isn’t the man we all read about.’
Yes, Carla did know that, and it helped no end to get Avril’s view on it all when Avril’s instincts weren’t bearing the miserable failure of a Richard. Besides, there was mercifully little time to dwell on it, when by now the shoot had fallen three hours behind schedule. With a deadline of Friday, and today being Thursday, Carla was much more concerned with how they were going to get everything in before they left than she was with Rosa’s gossip.
That night the production team worked until well after ten, totally restructuring the following day to try and fit in the three outstanding hours, as well as everything else that had been planned for Friday. As scenes and shots were axed, then reinstated, then put on standby, then axed again, Carla was frantically rewriting the script, trying to keep track of the cards, script pages and schedules that were being moved from noticeboard to desk, to floor, to bin, and back to the noticeboard. Her head was reeling as time and time again she pointed out discrepancies, bad continuity or gaping holes that made just about every suggestion unworkable. Finally, deciding she could no longer allow so much input, she ordered everyone except John and Frazer out of the room, and an hour later she’d managed to put together a script and schedule that at least had a fighting chance of working.