Marbella Cool

by Oster, Camille

  See, there was the ‘we’. It made her uncomfortable. What did it mean? She looked down at the linen napkin on her table, rolled until the end pointed like an arrow. She couldn’t bring herself to outright ask him. She wished she could, but it wasn’t in her. “Seeing the museum would be lovely.” That was the second time she’d said lovely in the last minute. He made her nervous, she realised. He hadn’t a few days ago—well, maybe he had, but not like this.

  “With the yacht, we can explore anywhere along the Mediterranean.”

  She looked up into his eyes. He just stared back at her, taking a sip of his wine. He was certainly dropping hints of a further association. Again, his eyes confronted her, as if he was studying her. Rosalie smiled as the food came, a delicious seafood pasta with creamy sauce. Alexi had ordered some kind of fish.

  The ride to the museum had been silent, but she had felt his presence the entire time. Out of them, he was the one who had physically changed the most. He was broader, stronger than he had been. Even his hands were different. She noticed the neatly trimmed nails of his fingers resting on his thigh.

  Although she’d always known his thoughts ran deep, he wasn’t always one for verbalising them, and that hadn’t really changed. She’d been the one to do most of the talking throughout their relationship.

  “Where are you conducting most of your business these days?” She didn’t really care; she just hated the prolonged silence.

  “Quite a bit in Asia.”

  “You must travel there fairly regularly.”

  “Yes, but I am cutting down on travel.”

  “How so?”

  He turned to her. “I suppose my priorities are changing.” His eyes lingered on her.

  A warning bell sounded in her mind, advising her not to continue with this line of questioning, or things would get personal and probably intense, quickly. “I visited China. Paul has an interest in the old trading routes. It was a lovely trip.”

  “I have done very little for leisure. I’ve seen very little in Asia other than board rooms.”

  “Then I am glad your priorities are changing.”

  The car arrived at the museum; a light orange building with two levels. Palm trees stretched along the front of it and it was noticeably cooler as they walked inside. Rosalie wasn’t sure her light dress would be enough inside this building. Her nipples contracted with the cold, walking down cavernous halls with marble statues. The beautifully crafted statues absorbed her right away. The workmanship was unsurpassed. True masters, their names often lost in time.

  Their steps echoed across the walls as they walked farther away from where a German tour was going. Away from the windows, in smaller rooms, the statues cast shadows on the wall, giving an eerie feeling like they were being watched. The skin prickled along her arms.

  “These treasures were the only thing that spoke for the civilisation that was, so rich and intricate, but completely lost in time. More could be remembered of us, but who’s to say the virtual data kept about us will last the distance of time. Perhaps it is just as perishable as paper. Maybe we will be just as mysterious with our rudimentary technological devices.”

  “Too much plastic now. It will never last.”

  “Such a pessimist,” she chided with a smile. “Perhaps with our records online, our descendants can know us intimately.”

  They entered a dark room with more statues. These looked decidedly Greek, which wasn’t surprising as the Greeks had been in this region for a time, if her recollection was correct.

  It was even colder in here and she was surprised her breath didn’t condense. She felt a touch at her back, warmth radiating along her skin. Other than when embarking or disembarking the boat, he hadn’t touched her the entire trip, but now, here in the dark, he did. She didn’t quite know what to do with it, and now he moved around, standing in front of her. The tension was unbearable and she felt frozen by it, hating her own stunned reaction. His fingers gently took her chin and tipped her head up until his mouth descended on hers. It was still him, that taste she knew from so long ago.

  His lips moved against hers, seeking entrance into her mouth. Rosalie’s heart was beating hard against her ribcage and the softness of his lips teased her mercilessly. Her hand snuck to his waist, which was solid and warm under her fingers, and desire flared throughout her body. With his arms around her, he deepened the kiss, holding her captive. His body pressed to hers. It had been so very long since she’d felt this.

  A throat clearing broke them apart and Rosalie turned her embarrassed gaze on the guard telling them off. Alexi still wasn’t entirely letting go and she couldn’t bring herself to break the contact either, but they finally did.

  Her knees felt weak as she continued walking, hearing Alexi’s foot steps behind her. “What did we just do?” she asked, turning around but still walking backwards.

  Alexi shrugged, a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. She knew by looking at him that this was more than just a passing kiss. He had intentions for her; she just didn’t exactly know what they were. “Is this why you invited me on this trip?” she asked. He didn’t answer, slowly walking after her. “Quite elaborate for a kiss.”

  “Timing is everything.”

  “And this was the right time?”

  “Yes.”

  “For what?”

  “Our reunification.”

  Goosebumps rose along her skin. He obviously did mean this to be more than a kiss. “Is that a given then?”

  “Yes.”

  Part of her strove against the certainty he portrayed, but another was too ready to agree with him, because, yes, her body was burning up with need now. All ignited by a kiss in the dark. And Alexi kept coming relentlessly. “You were intent on driving me away from here not so long ago. Marbella, I mean.”

  “It did take me some time to come to terms with it.”

  “You drove my date away.”

  “Yes.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “You won’t.”

  “Said with such certainty.”

  “I felt how you reacted.” The truth that cut through any lie or deflection. Desire burned through her veins, of a kind she hadn’t felt for a while—maybe a kind she’d been wishing to find with the men she’d seen, but it had never quite been there. Not since Alexi had left her.

  She had no idea where she was going, but he followed. Mosaics on the wall passed by, but she wasn’t really able to absorb anything right now. Her subconscious mind was screaming at her—messages she couldn’t quite interpret. And then they came to a part with a desk. The Secret Room, with its own entrance fee. She knew full well that was where the erotic art was kept, for which the ancient cultures here were known.

  “Do you want to see?” Alexi asked.

  Best not, she thought. Things were unbalanced enough as it was without fuelling that fire. She shook her head, but her hand was at his stomach again.

  “Then maybe it is time to go.”

  Chapter 60

  The electricity in his touch now burned as he held her hand across the gangplank. Rosalie’s cheeks hadn’t stopped burning, and neither had his hand shifted off her thigh on the car ride back to the jetty.

  There was now a silent accord between them, something she didn’t quite understand, but couldn’t deny either.

  The boat shook as the engines started. “Are we returning?”

  “Yes,” he said. “This trip is only short.”

  She was a little sorry—that dream of them aimlessly wandering the streets of Naples still sat in her heart, but it wasn’t to be. It would probably not be anything like she’d imagined anyway.

  They sat down at the set of chairs while the steward brought them a drink. The coast line started moving away, still stunning to view. But this was the place where they’d had that kiss that promised so much. Now they were heading away, back to the context of their lives and she wasn’t sure she was ready.

  Crossing her legs, she felt her pulse throughout her
entire body. Desire still burned, awakened and starving. They sat in silence and before long the sun was setting. Dinner was served, plates of fish, scallops and calamari.

  Rosalie found it hard to eat, but the wine was helping. They were both simply holding off from what they knew was to come, biding time, just enjoying the burning desire and gut wrenching anticipation. She didn’t want to talk about what it meant. Tonight, she just wanted to feel, to relent to the desire, and to feel him. At some point later, she would run her hands along his body, feel him coming to her. Her insides clenched with ache.

  The steward was dismissed and they were alone, a small, intimate world surrounded by blackness. He rose from his chair and held out his hand to her. She knew full well what she was agreeing to if she took it, for the night at least. Anything beyond that was simply too complicated to consider.

  Her hand slipped into his and she stood. Arms snuck around her back and his warm body pressed to her. Lips made contact and again there was the taste of him, and wine. How had she possibly stopped herself from doing this the moment she’d laid eyes on him? This seemed inevitable.

  Breasts pressed to him, he moved her away from the table and inside the lounge area where it was darker. With his fingers, he popped the little belt around her waist, loosening her dress. The material stroked along her body as he lifted it off her. She probably shouldn’t behave so wantonly, but she wanted him, wanted him buried inside her, soothing the ache.

  With gentle fingers, she undid the buttons down his shirt until she could skim it over his shoulders, which were broad and lovely. His chest was strong and defined, different from before. “You are different now,” she said, running her hand along the curves of his muscles. A man.

  The sea breeze caressed along her breasts as she unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor. “And you are still perfect,” he said. “Still so accepting of your desire.” She’d always loved sex, particularly with him, and she’d never denied it. And she was going to adore it once again.

  Her hands sought his erection, running down the stiff shaft hidden away under his trousers. His eyes floundered a little with the sensation she wrought in him. His thumb stroked across her pebbled nipple sent shivers down her spine, pooling into pure, molten heat. Her knees were growing weak and wetness was staining her knickers. Pushing them down, she let them drop. She was utterly naked in front of him, his shaded eyes taking in her body. She might not be supermodel perfect; she had more curves, but she was not bad either.

  Taking her head, he brought her to him into a kiss, a searching, demanding kiss. He wanted all of her. His fingers worked their way into her folds, finding her nub and making her cry with the pressure he exerted. A finger slipped into her heat, reaching into her. “I have missed you,” he said.

  “And I you.”

  Withdrawing, he undid his belt and let his trousers drop, revealing his marvellous erection. And she had really missed that. It rubbed against her abdomen and she felt her core clench with want.

  Lifting her up on the edge of a table, he urged her to lie back, trailing kisses down her front, teasing her nipple with his warm, firm tongue. The tension in her was now at impossible levels, it hurt. “Please, Alexi,” she begged.

  His departing mouth left cooling moisture on her peaked nipple and his lips stroked down her abdomen, her breath racing, stopping when his mouth closed around the little nub at her entrance. Sensation exploded in her as he sucked, his fingers working inside her again. It was too much. Fierce tension clamped around her and she spread her legs farther, wanting more, her hips rolling to meet his commanding lips. An orgasm powered through her, making her cry out, her fingers snaking into his hair.

  The dull ache continued, because she knew she hadn’t gotten what she wanted yet; him buried inside her. Grabbing her hips, he lined up at her entrance and pushed in firmly, gliding into her welcoming heat. The vestiges of her orgasm only made her more sensitive, feeling his invasion acutely. She arched as the pleasure assaulted her. He wasn’t gentle and she didn’t want gentle. She wanted this raw and claiming—something she only felt with him. She wanted to be his, always had, that base instinct she could never really escape.

  Hard thrusts shot waves of urgent need through her, building tension fiercely. She wasn’t going to be able to hold this second orgasm off; it built mercilessly. Her back arched again, seeking him deeper in her, until everything ripped apart again, sweeter as they were joined. Surges of pleasure flowed through her from each hard thrust, her lungs robbed of breath, her existence narrowed down to nothing beyond him.

  A sharp cry had him tensing above her, and she was conscious enough to watch every corded muscle of his body straining as he came, pulsing his essence deep inside her. She wanted this forever. It was the most erotic and loving thing she had ever known, because she had always loved him. This felt like things were finally coming right. This was hers and maybe it was time she fought for it.

  Chapter 61

  Hannah walked outside, wearing her silk robe and carrying a cup of coffee and a plate of toast. Cory had just dropped Trish off on his way to work.

  “So,” Hannah said, putting her plate carefully down on the day bed outside. “You’re sleeping with Cory again.”

  Trish groaned and curled over.

  “He’s just that guy for you. No matter what he does, you end up bouncing on his cock.”

  “Thanks for being so crude.”

  “No need to pretty it up, is there?”

  “He says it’s different this time, and I want to believe him.”

  “But?”

  “Past history.”

  Hannah sighed. “It’s plain for anyone with eyes that he’s nuts about you, but then there is that side of him that… ”

  “Am I being a complete moron?”

  “Yes, but that’s love, I guess.”

  “I hate being this person where every line I draw, I end up crossing. He’s seriously not giving me a chance though. He’s going to be there when I get off work. He drives me home in the morning.”

  “He’s scared.”

  Trish beat a pillow and put it under her head.

  “I would rather have Cory being terrified and you staying here than you pissing off somewhere.”

  “He’s just going to screw me over again.”

  “Or maybe he won’t. There are no guarantees. He’s still that guy that does it for you, and you’re obviously the girl that does it for him. I can’t believe you two are making this so complicated. Seriously, enough with the drama. I’m exhausted just watching it. You give yet one more chance, or you don’t. It’s pretty simple. Anyway, what do you want to do today?”

  “I suppose you won’t be accepting moping as an option.”

  Hannah raised her eyebrows in utter lack of amusement.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck off to London?”

  “And put up with you moping for the next year? Cory’s just going to follow you anyway. You might as well stay here.”

  “You know you’re giving me the worst advice ever. Any sane person would tell me to move on.”

  “They’re people who aren’t having the kind of sex you are. Apparently the whole house can hear you.”

  Trish groaned and put the pillow over her head. Had she really turned into that girl?

  “Come on, let’s go walk around the designer stores, pretend we can afford to buy something,” Hannah said, nudging her.

  As expected, Cory was waiting for her when she got off work. She’d been both excited and apprehensive. So far his dedication was lasting.

  Grabbing her, he pulled her to him, kissing her gently. The sex marathon wasn’t exactly alleviating, but she could hardly complain. His kisses and touches were just so sweet; she wasn’t sure she could live without them.

  “There’s still that part of you I can’t get to,” he said, his hands running down her sides.

  “You mean the part that’s waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

  Cory bit his lips
together. “I guess there is no way you can completely trust me.”

  Trish bit her lip and looked at him. He looked so sad. “Obviously, you could stop screwing other girls. That would be a massive step in the right direction.”

  “But you won’t trust me to.”

  “We bear the scars of our past dealings.”

  Her body was leaning against his, his hand holding his other wrist behind her back. “I’m sorry.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “I promise you, I will not sleep with another girl, woman, somewhere in between, even dudes. I have never promised you that before. We are officially a couple. Mess with you, mess with me kind of thing.”

  She so badly wanted to believe him. He was right; he had never promised her any such thing in the past. It had all been no promises and tangled feelings.

  “Give me six months to prove it. Six months and then you will trust me. I’ll even let you tattoo ‘Property of Trish’ on my arse.”

  “You don’t like tattoos.”

  “I care about you a lot more than I care about tattoos. But saying that, I am a bit squeamish about pain.”

  She slapped him on the arm, but then settled down in her rather comfortable position in his arms. She was feeling better. He was working hard and she did appreciate him understanding how cautious she was. She had the right to be.

  “Seriously though, you screw up, I’m on the next flight. No questions asked. You won’t get a chance to explain, you won’t get appeals. Done, finished, no going back.”

  Gently he kissed along the bridge of her nose, sending light, fluttery feelings down into her stomach. “Deal.”

  Trish pulled away from his lovely embrace. They couldn’t stand there all night, besides, she wanted to seal the deal with another night that would keep his flatmates awake.

  Walking around the car to the driver’s side, he opened his door. “So should we, like, move in together, or something?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you’re going to have to work for that.”