by Lisa Torquay
Mark spooned her and they dozed away, given to each other.
Amy opened her eyes to the light filtering through the curtains to find herself enmeshed in a tangle of bed sheets and legs. Mark held her possessively, one arm around her, elbow bent on her midriff and a hand holding her breast. His sleeping face was immersed in her cinnamon mass of ringlets spread on the pillow. She peeked at the clock: she’d got half hour still. She stirred just a little not to wake him up.
As she moved, Mark surfaced to consciousness. His nostrils registered her scent. She was back home. She brought him home. He had his eyes shut as he lay there just feeling her with his other senses, the smoothness of her skin, the sound of her breathing. He’d never stop being amazed at how fulfilled he felt near her, in every possible way. His hands now wandered over her silkiness tenderly. Both just lay there, half asleep enjoying the feel of one another for long moments.
Amy looked at the clock again. Time to get up. She moved to lift herself from bed.
“No.” Mark moaned, holding her tighter. “Don’t go just as yet.” His deep male voice almost commanding.
Amy turned to him in the narrow circle of his arms. Their eyes met lazy. “We both have to get up.” She smiled faintly.
“Let’s stay in bed.” He kissed her chin. “All day.”
She rumbled an amused laugh. “Let’s leave it for the weekend, shall we?” Her hand strolled over his muscled arm.
“You’re too serious a company owner.” He commented naughtily.
She lifted her torso from the mattress with her elbows. “So are you.” And she kissed his lips quickly.
But his palm circled the nape of her neck and his thin sensuous lips kissed her longer, his tongue toying around.
She tried to resist, but his shameless tongue was too enticing. “Hmmm.” She moaned.
His other arm managed to bring her body entirely over his as she lost balance and fell without a choice. His hand spread over her buttocks, pressing it against his readiness. “Oh!” She exclaimed.
She lifted her head and smiled suggestively at him. Her hand went in between them to feel him over. She caressed him; he relaxed and closed his eyes sighing.
She took advantage of his momentary distraction. In a swift movement, she got up and ran from his king-size bed. He opened his eyes. “Come back here, you mischievous woman!” He groaned hoarsely.
Her beautiful stare on his, a glint of smugness in them. “A doctor would recommend a cold shower.” She turned and ran giggling and naked to her bedroom, leaving him with a comically vexed scowl.
As Amy forecast, there was a lot of work waiting for her when she arrived at her office, one floor above Mark’s. She was still running through CV’s for a secretary, which meant she had to do most of the paperwork for now. She kept her office room open so that she could see anyone who came to talk to her.
Chapter XVIII
Mid-afternoon she heard a rasp on the open door. She lifted her head absently from her laptop and saw Juan. “Hi, Juan.”
“Hi, Amy.” He looked at her a little too long.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” She asked politely ignoring his attitude.
“I just wondered if you’re going to run any survey concerning the R&D department.” He stepped in the room, staring at her.
“Actually I am. It’s a rather new area at MBS and we have to follow it up.” As he entered, she stood up, according to protocol.
“My concept exactly.” He neared her desk and rested a hand on it.
“If this is all, I have to...”
“No, there’s something else.” He cleared his throat. “I’d like to invite you for dinner tonight.”
Amy opened her mouth surprised. She knew he had an interest in her, which she respected, but didn’t reciprocate. She reckoned she had made it clear to him.
“I think you know I...” He stopped abruptly as he saw her embarrassed countenance.
Hands clasped on her bosom, she felt extremely awkward. She had this...thing with Mark and never gave it a thought as to how it’d be if they came public about it. Going public was never an issue for her; she preferred to keep her life private. She felt so absorbed with Mark and such a lot had happened. She should have thought something like this would happen sooner or later, but she dismissed Mark’s notion of exposing themselves when he suggested it. A hand came up to her cheek. She startled from her erratic thoughts and stared at Juan mortified.
“No...I...” And she begun to step back.
“I do hope I am not interrupting anything.” Mark’s steel-cold voice rang in her ears.
She looked at the ferocious flash burning in his stare and shut her lashes, previewing what’d come next. “You’re not interrupting. Juan was about to leave.”
Juan’s hand had fallen to his side, but he hadn’t wheeled to face Mark. He turned and left without sparing a single look at his direct boss.
Mark felt infuriated. When he came into her room and saw Juan there, so close to her. It was as if a Vulcan was ready to erupt from the depths of his guts. And it kept pressing upwards. “So?” His voice still cold.
Amy stared directly at his fury-ridden feline eyes. “So...what?” She lifted her chin defiantly. She reminded herself that she didn’t do anything wrong, not her.
He leaned on the door-frame a sarcastic venomous look in his eyes. “Seems to me you were about to jump from my bed to his, just like that.” He clapped his fingers and folded his strong arms over his broad chest.
At that she simmered. Anger and rebellion showing boldly in her focus. “How dare you judge me without even asking for the facts?” She spilled in between her teeth.
They looked at each other in anger and strong-will. “I don’t need to ask. I witnessed it!”
“And jumped to conclusions, naturally!” Her hands came to her hips.
“It’s all too obvious, isn’t it?” He looked at her so beautiful in her defiance. A lightning of a thought sliced through his mind: If he lost her, he would lose everything.
“For your twisted mind, maybe!”
Mark’s blood boiled at that. “My twisted mind? Do you deny that the project-of-a-Latin-lover was merely inches from you, touching you in a very personal way?” The memory of them moments ago was burning him inside.
“You saw him doing something; certainly you didn’t see me doing anything!” She pointed her ten spread fingers at herself.
In quick strides he left the door-frame and came near her, holding her shoulders. “You are mine! Only mine! Don’t you forget that!”
She lifted her eyes to him in intense ire. “I am nobody’s!” She jerked her arms free. “I am my own!” She spat hotly.
They faced each other in rage, fuming breaths coming from both of them.
“You get this straight...” He begun to sentence, but she interrupted him.
“Out with you now!” She hissed. They needed to calm down before some irreparable mistake was made.
Their stares clashed and sparks jumped out of them. Amy kept her ground with hardness in her stiff body language. Reluctantly, he turned and left.
Amy sat on her chair in total upturned emotions. She hid her face on her hands and sighed nervously. That was an awkward situation to be caught in the midst of. Never had Mark’s possessiveness been so disturbing. She praised her freedom, her independence. Nevertheless, this torrid...connection had become part of her life. An important part; too important actually. She didn’t have a clue as to how to deal with this. All sorts of contradictory emotions criss-crossed her.
For the rest of the afternoon she worked in a rush of stress, directing her anger to her productivity. Her bright wide eyes were unblinking at the screen and her fingers dashed over the keyboard. By the end of the day the tumult was still there and she didn’t know what to do to spend it away. She decided to walk home. It’d take one hour and the exercise might do her good.
Mark rocketed downstairs, as he left Amy’s office, in a fog of jealousy, anger and f
rustration. It utterly disconcerted him to realise how deep his feelings for her ran; and how much he needed her in his life. He disappeared into his office room, sat in his chair with a big glass of water. It was necessary to get hold of himself before he did something stupid. Like punching damn Torres. And getting sued for that. To sit there drove him crazy. He sprang from the chair and started pacing the length of the room, hands clasped behind him. After a while he was less angry and more capable of taking action.
He walked swiftly through the corridors, knocked at Torres’ door and opened it without waiting for a reply. Juan lifted his head from the screen and faced Mark stoically. Mark closed the door silently behind him. He stopped in front of Torres, arms folded.
“What was it I saw upstairs?” He asked boldly, without caring if it was appropriated or not.
Juan sat back on his chair, one hand on its arm, the other under his chin. “I was trying to invite Amy out for dinner.” He said neutrally.
Those cold claws of jealousy squeezed Mark inside, but he made an inhuman effort to retain control. “What gave you the impression that you could make such a move?” Mark had to ask, or he’d be judging without knowing, as Amy had accused him of doing.
“As far as I know she’s not...seeing anybody.” Juan had a piercing look creeping in his brown eyes. “She goes straight home every day.” This last sentence was dripping in sarcasm.
Mark knew it was a bait and he was cornered. If he admitted anything, he’d implicate Amy without her acknowledgement. If he didn’t; he’d imply that she was free to be courted by that...person, which was inadmissible. “I’d take it easy if I were you.” He answered carefully, in a tone that warned Juan to maintain a distance.
Juan spread his arms on the chair. “Should I deduce that you are seeing her, in this case?”
Mark gave a hard look at Torres. “Deduce whatever you want.” But underneath the message was ‘keep away from her’.
Juan exhibited an understanding lopsided smile. “I see.” He murmured.
“I really hope you do.” Mark answered quietly and left the room.
But Mark returned to his room overflowingly dissatisfied. His real intention had been to reassert his association with Amy; only to find his hands were tied. This could easily become the gossip of the month. He’d have to take action concerning it. Straight away.
Amy heard the front door open and shut as she set the table for dinner. She was at a complete loss how to proceed, but she’d not hide in her room. Cowardice wasn’t her fashion. A lump of awkwardness was placed exactly on the location of her stomach, bowling up and down.
Mark saw the light in the dining room and routed directly there. He hadn’t known what to expect and he half hoped she had retired to avoid the friction. Friction would come sooner or later anyway.
As he stepped in the cosy dining room they stared lengthy at each other. She was standing by the table with her fingers laced before her. She dressed a lose sweat set which didn’t disguise her beauty in the least.
She didn’t cover any of her emotions as her honey pools flowed to him. His focus on her as he fiddled with his tie, his cuffs and the first buttons of his shirt. It would help if he wasn’t the most magnetic man in the universe.
“Good evening.” He attempted, rolling his shirt sleeves up. As he glanced at her he felt a tinge of embarrassment for the scene he made at her office.
“Good evening.” She turned to the table to stop staring and to continue arranging the flatware. “Dinner will be warm in a moment.”
He nodded and went to wash his hands.
The meal elapsed mostly in silence. Neither of them was in the mood for light conversation because a thick undercurrent of mingled emotions was almost palpable.
Afterwards he helped her tidy up.
He was sitting on the sofa in the sitting room as she entered. She was in doubt whether she should sit there or just walk past him and call it an evening.
“I talked to Juan.” Mark started. He sat back on the plush sofa, arms spread over it.
Amy’s steps froze, she turned and darted a surprised look at him. “Oh.” She hadn’t expected him to go after the facts. “He wanted to invite me for dinner.”
“I heard as much.” Eyes locked on hers, he seemed to be observing every tiny reaction of hers.
A wave of indignation surfaced in her. “How could you think I would...” She stopped, not knowing which words to use. His possessiveness was a little too bothering.
“Would what, Amy?” His remarkable eyes so intense on her.
“I don’t have the least interest in him!” She frowned as if that was the biggest incongruous thought under the sun.
“I believe the girls around regard him as rather edible.” He gave an ironic side-smile.
“Not me!” She braced herself and gazed the floor for a moment, believing Mark was the very first in those girls’ edibility list. “Don’t you see that I...?” She lifted her eyes to him. “Don’t you know what you...?” She didn’t have a way to finish those questions without giving away a part of her inner emotions.
Mark stared at her for a long moment. His eyes fell to her full lips. “I see a lot right now.” He said in double meaning. “But I could use some elaboration.” His insolent attention slid down her figure shamelessly. Discussing with her could be a straining task. He had to keep his desire at bay and force his brain into action. At that precise moment the latter was dwindling to an inexorable shut-down, while other parts were coming to the fore, so to say.
Amy felt his glance on her and shivered in response. How could she formulate coherent sentences when his magnetism was creeping in her nerves? “Can’t you see what you do to me?” She risked, deeming the choice of words clumsy.
Mark stood from the sofa and came near her. Inches from her. She had to bend her head back to behold him. “What do I do to you, Amy?” He asked in a grave low voice.
Goose-bumps all over her skin. “Our...our...lovemaking,” she breathed it out with difficulty and hesitated.
“What of our lovemaking?” He gave another step towards her; his manly scent invaded her nostrils, running through her blood vessels.
“It’s so,” she sucked in the air, “consuming!” The word itself carried all the meaning she gave to it. “I can’t stand even the idea of someone else!” And she opened her arms in a helpless gesture, but her body was becoming dangerously malleable.
A charge of electricity ran through Mark at her admission. “Tell me more.” His voice came hoarse now.
An invisible hand clipped her womb and sent waves travelling in all directions. “I feel...enraptured.” She murmured in a silky voice.
One more step of his and their toes were touching. “How so?”
Her body begun to melt. Their eyes never detached. Hers were wide on his darkened ones. “Everything melds inside me.” She breathed weakly.
His hands moved upwards. “We’re in the same wavelength.” His fingers reached the top of her sweat coat.
The warmth of his skin filtered through the fabric of her sweat coat as he played lazily with the zipper. Her breath deregulated.
“What should we do about it?” His long fingers held her zipper.
“I don’t...” She moistened her lips in search of logical words.
His eyes followed her tongue hungrily. “This?” The zipper slid down in mesmerizing slowness.
“Maybe.” Breathed out almost inaudible.
“Or this?” His hand found one full bare breast.
“Yes.” She was going to lose balance.
He curled his fingers and his nails grazed her nipple in a light caress, peaking it. He watched her attentively as she grabbed his biceps to avoid falling. “Tell me what you feel, Amy.” He demanded hoarsely. His nails teased her in circles.
Her head fell a little back. “Good.”
He made her lean against him. “I want to hear what you wish.” His thumb and forefinger rolled the poor nipple.
“You know it.”
A murmur as her lashes weighed down.
“Say it.” His other arm laced her narrow waist.
“You make me hungry for your...” He pressed her hips against what she didn’t voice out.
“What?” His hand cupped her full defenceless breast.
She gasped. “...for you to-to fill me.”
His breath became uneven at her disconnected words. “Do I ‘fill’ you to your liking?” He pressed her closer to his utter hardness.
“Yes. Oh, yes.” Her arms slid up unhurriedly appreciating his broad chest and linking around his neck.
“Do I fulfil you, Amy?” There was a harsher tone now in between his irregular puffs.
Amy opened her hazy eyes and registered an expectant expression on his precise-angled face. She nodded.
“How?” His head bent over hers; his feline stare boring into her.
“To my last cell.” She whispered flimsy. His thin sensuous lips finally came over hers.
Her lips widened to receive whatever he offered her. And he offered everything.
“Amy.” He muttered as he nibbled her full lower lip. His hand went from her breast to the nape of her neck. He kissed her again, with more passion.
One of her legs spiralled around his. His kisses were setting her ablaze, fogging her mind. She drank on them as if she hadn’t kissed him in years.
“There can never be another woman, Amy.” He breathed in her ear. “Because you fulfil me to my last cell too.” He hauled her by the waist and they fell on the fluffy sofa, he sitting and she on him.
Mark’s agile fingers opened the zipper further and her coat fell apart and was peeled to her mid-upper arm. He held her by her arms and brought her nearer as his lips closed around one of her nipples. The sensation was so intense that her head lolled back as she gasped. But he suckled on it only so lightly. She moaned in protest. He never cared. His mouth just slid around her eager nipple like wet feather. Once, twice, three times. She tried to hold his head to pull him. He prevented her as he continued the torture. Now the other breast. Amy melted in murmurs of frustration. He went on unrelenting. He moved away and lifted his eyes to her. She eyed him, supplicating and panting. He brought her near and licked her willing nipple. And moved her back, looking at her, filing every reaction she showed. A piercing heat wormed its way to her middle as she tried to ignore it. He pulled her again. And merely licked her other nipple repeatedly. And now she could not ignore the flames. He pushed her back anew. Their eyes crossed foggy.