Poppy's Place in the Sun

by Lorraine Wilson

  Leo’s certainly demonstrated commitment for what he feels to be his vocation. I know how long it takes to train to become a vet in England and can’t imagine it’s any easier in France. And he gave up his practice in Paris to come home when his family needed him. All of this feels too personal to bring up now, certainly while the frown lines are there.

  I’m pretty sure Leo’s parents are proud of him though. I remember his mother boasting about her son the vet, the day we met. I wonder if Leo realises it?

  I imagine Leo as a little boy digging for his fossils and dinosaur bones and smile.

  “What?” Leo’s glances over at me as though he sensed my smile.

  “I was thinking about your dinosaur obsession when you were younger. You remember, you told me about it when you gave me my history tour?”

  “The day you asked me if I planned to throw you off the mountaintop?” Leo’s lips curve into a grin and I’m pleased to have chased the frown lines away.

  “Yes, that’s the one,” I smile back. “I was wondering if all those dinosaur bones gave you an interest in anatomy?”

  “So, you’ve been thinking about me then?” The curve of Leo’s lips is a little too smug for my liking, but I let it go. “Anyway that day out was hardly a comprehensive history tour, more of an introduction. I think I need to broaden your education.”

  “Oh really?”

  “For someone whose history of the area has been gleaned purely from popular fiction, yes.” Leo’s lips curve into an affectionate, teasing smile that makes my stomach flip.

  “Hey, I’ve been busy, moving house, moving countries, doing all that paperwork you French seem to love so much.” I cross my arms over my chest, pretending to huff. “And I’m still waiting for that tour of the chateau that your mother insists only you can give me.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, you’ll get your tour soon I promise.”

  Leo is tactful enough to omit to mention we haven’t exactly been on the best of terms recently.

  “It’s okay. I assumed you’d been busy. You must have an awful lot to deal with at the moment. I’m sure it’s difficult,” I say lightly.

  We’re now entering the main elegant square in Ax-les Thermes, bordered by cafés and shops.

  Leo nods and then he surprises me by grinning ruefully.

  “You’ve … not really caught me at my best since you moved here, sorry.”

  The apology wrong foots me, I wasn’t expecting it.

  “It’s okay, really I understand.” I want to reach out and touch him. I wish I could comfort him for the grief of his bereavements, the illness of his father, having to leave behind the life he’d built for himself in Paris … But there is still a gap between us, despite all the kissing. I wonder about his friends in Paris and whether he left behind a girlfriend.

  Leo pulls his jeep into the car park behind the thermal baths and turns to look at me. It’s as though, in that moment of stillness, despite my lack of words, a world of communication flashes between us. In each other’s eyes we see only our naked souls. There’s no hiding, no need for words.

  Just a sensation of connection that rocks me to me core. Because if I see him then he sees me…

  I look away first, confused by my emotions. After misreading the signals with Leo last time I can’t be the one to take the initiative. I grab my rucksack and once out of the car we are assailed by the scent of sulphur, rising from the natural thermal springs bubbling up by the side of the baths.

  As we walk to the main baths complex I feel that one, sort of, apology deserves one in return.

  “I haven’t been at my best either Leo. Things have been … challenging for me too,” I say. “This was a nice idea of yours and I appreciate it, I know it’s a long drive for you when you’ve been at work all day. I suppose I’ve been doing too much lately. I think I might need to look at changing the way I do things, maybe pacing a bit better.”

  I don’t like admitting any limits to Leo. It feels like owning up to vulnerability. I’m basically giving Leo the ammunition to tell me that I can’t do the guest house idea, that I can’t cope and I should pack up and go home … leaving him to buy the house back.

  He doesn’t bite at the opportunity though.

  “You’ll get there.” Leo stops and smiles at me, tenderly stroking the side of my face.

  It’s an affectionate gesture that shouldn’t have the impact it does. As it is I feel almost weak at the knees with desire.

  I wish I could understand what this means. I’m trying to reconcile the apparent change in Leo’s attitude towards me. If I asked outright would it help?

  Maybe not. What if Leo is just as confused as me? Demanding an answer wouldn’t help either of us. Perhaps we are supposed to muddle through and the answer will become clear to us.

  I hope so anyway.

  Once I’ve changed into my bikini I head out into the thermal pool area which is divided up into various pools and stone basins of varying temperatures with Jacuzzis, a steam room and cold plunge pool as well as various jets and jacuzzis in the main baths to massage stiff necks and shoulders.

  I find Leo waiting in the main indoor pool and feel his gaze travelling over my body as I slip down into the water quickly, suddenly self-conscious. Yet I’m just as curious, and I can’t help staring at Leo’s naked torso, at the dark line of hair snaking down from his chest into the waistband of his swimming shorts.

  The temperature of the water is sublime, like a nice warm bath and it eases the tension in my muscles instantly. I swim over to Leo and then ease myself back into a water-jet that pounds and massages my neck, working out the kinks and tight spots.

  “Feeling any better?” Leo asks.

  “I’m getting there.” I move closer, relaxing into the arm he drapes around my shoulders. He pulls me against him and I feel so turned on, our bodies making contact beneath the water.

  I am fizzing and jumping inside but trying to stay outwardly calm. I’m trying to breathe properly and failing miserably. All I can think about is that Leo is close but not close enough. That I could reach out and stroke his chest if I dared.

  The tension between the two of us, wound with such precision by Leo, has me taut enough to snap. Is this part of his seduction, to render me senseless with longing with kissing sessions and then bring me here to relax before taking me to bed? I still don’t know if he is playing me or if I can totally trust him. The sensations in my body are driving me past the point where I care anymore.

  We move to the Caldarium, a large stone basin where the temperature is more like piping hot bath water. I sink down with a sigh onto one of the seats, the jets in the corner massaging my spine. It’s not especially crowded this evening, not like it would be in ski season, but Leo sits close to me anyway with his body pressed up against mine. I am aware of every last millimetre of skin against skin. He slips his hand into mine and with his thumb he circles my palm, languorously and sensuously. The remaining physical tension in my muscles is dissipating and I’m slowly slipping into a sensual haze that suffuses my body. Heat throbs between my legs, flushes my skin and takes me to a place where there are no doubts, only certainty that I want to give myself to Leo.

  I wish we weren’t in a public place. I suspect Leo is doing this on purpose, to soften my defences and tease me.

  After we have cooled down in the outside baths I am feeling a thousand times better than when I arrived, both pain and stress relieved. At Leo’s suggestion we go upstairs to the adult only area where there’s a sauna, the Irlando-Roman baths and more outdoor baths.

  The Irlando-Roman baths look intriguing-underwater reclined lounging seats with jets that massage the whole body. On one side of the steps, lying side-by-side on the recliners is a couple in a position that would raise a few eyebrows back home, but I guess this is one of the culturally different attitudes I’ve yet to acclimate to.

  By the time we descend the steps to go to the seats in the opposite corner I am feeling decidedly … fizzy. Okay, so I�
�m turned on.

  So very turned on.

  When I lie down the sensation only increases as bubbles massage the length of my body and even up between my legs. Holy crap. If I just shifted a little I think I’d come here and now, Leo has me wound so tight.

  By Leo’s wicked, amused smile I think he knows this. He lies on his side, watching me, lips quirking. He leans over to speak to me, the only way to be heard over the jets.

  “Does this feel good? Are you relaxing?” His mouth is close to my ear and when his teeth graze my earlobe I’m startled by the ripple of desire that shudders through my body – starting small and then building into a crescendo of desire. I feel both relaxed and taut with arousal at the same time. He knows exactly how to turn me on.

  “Do you think this is how you’ll feel when I’m kissing you all over?” Leo murmurs, his breath tickling my skin as he kisses along my jawline.

  I manage a shaky nod before we’re kissing properly and I forget to care what anyone else might think. Leo is such a good kisser. I shift my weight to turn towards him which has the unexpected advantage of giving the jets better access between my legs. As Leo’s tongue rhythmically probes my mouth I feel an insistent, warm wave of pleasure building up between my legs and crashing through my body. Leo must sense me stiffen because he trails one hand down from my stomach and discreetly squeezes my hip as I come, shielding me from public view. I moan my release into Leo’s mouth and he holds me until the tremors subside and my body goes languid and limp again.

  I bury my head against Leo’s neck, feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed. When I eventually meet his gaze it’s still knowing and teasing but his pupils are dark with arousal. I know he’s been turned on by watching me come.

  “Feeling better?” He asks again, defying me to be embarrassed.

  Oh well, they say “when in Rome,” and I am in a Roman bath…

  “I’m great, thank you.” I’m also glad the water is hot enough to spare my blushes.

  He grins. “My polite English girl.”

  Gah, still with the thank you’s. They’re so ingrained in me I can’t help it. Mum would be so proud. On the other hand maybe not so much about what just happened.

  “Oh, piss off.” I splash Leo. “I can be rude if you like?”

  He laughs.

  “I think I like.” He takes one of my hands and makes me move despite my protests. “Come outside and cool down.”

  The outside areas upstairs are also adult only and a tier level above the main pools. Leo leads me to a corner alcove out of reach of the mirrors, although the mirrors are too misted up for the lifeguards or anyone else to see much of anything anyway. We aren’t the only couple enjoying the privacy by any means.

  When Leo presses me back against the wall of a recessed alcove all I can do is feel.

  Feel the smooth, hard, rock of the stone at my back.

  Feel the cold, fresh air on my face and chest.

  Feel the warm water lapping around my lower body.

  But most of all I feel Leo – toned muscle pressing against my soft curves, his rough stubble lightly grazing my cheek and his fingers as they discreetly trace the line of my breasts and gently tease my nipples, already stiffening through my bikini top in the cold air.

  I know now without a doubt I can never be satisfied again until I’ve had Leo inside me. It’s a certainty driven by need and want and agonising desire. It’s blind to any potential dangers behind Leo’s charms and doesn’t give a flying fuck about the potential awkwardness of living next door to Leo if or when this doesn’t work out.

  He’s kissing my neck as I loop my arms around his shoulders and my legs up around his waist, feeling the hard bulge in his shorts pressing against me in a most delicious way. He holds me still, not moving, pinning me against the wall in a seemingly endless torture of denial as sexual desire flares between us.

  It’s delicious, emancipating and empowering.

  The fact that we can’t do more than this in a public place and have already done more than we ought makes the sensation all the more erotic. It’s borderline unbearable, tortuous of Leo to do this to me knowing we can’t take it further,

  Not yet anyway.

  Surely he’ll invite me back to his, or ask to come to Les Coquelicots? I know delayed gratification is meant to make the end result that much more enjoyable but a niggling part of me can’t help wondering if this is all part of Leo manipulating me.

  Does he think he’ll get me so suffused with lust that I’ll agree to anything?

  Then he unexpectedly grips my bottom and squeezes, sending a jolt of pleasure soaring through my body.

  Okay, so maybe his plan has a chance after all.

  But … no, not even for … Not … Thoughts struggle to penetrate the haze of longing. I would never agree to sell my home or the future I have dreamt about.

  “Shall we go?” It’s as though Leo senses my thoughts and shifting mood. Perhaps he wants to capitalise before I shift too far away from him. As I dress in the changing area my hands are shaking so much it takes longer than it should. All the way home I’m convincing myself surely he’ll suggest we go back to his place. All that touching can only be going one place – bed. Or the sofa, or the rug in front of the fire, or in the shower. My mind has gone to all those places and a few more so when he stops his jeep at my gate, gets out, kisses me softly on the lips and then steps away I’m utterly thrown.

  “See you soon Poppy.” Leo waves as he gets back into his car.

  See you soon?! How can he not want … How?

  My thoughts at the start of the evening were correct – he is a cocky bastard.

  Is this his idea of a game? How on earth can he do all that and walk away? Even if he’s into delayed gratification It’s a sure sign that he is more in control than me which can’t be a good thing. The one with the most control holds all the cards, everybody knows that. And maybe he is manipulating me too who knows?

  I feel confused and my skin feels bereft of his touch. It is only with a modicum of self-control that I stop myself from going after him and begging. I hover for one awful second, afraid I might do just that. Then I head towards Les Coquelicots, a mess of frustration and confusion.

  I bite my lip, savouring the moment of silence before the dogs realise that I am home.

  I wish I could pretend that this was all purely about lust and pheromones. But there’s more than chemistry at work here. There was that overwhelming moment of connection, not to mention the tug on my heart that goes out to Leo, to the man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and a well of sadness inside him. I want to share some of that load, to nurture and comfort him.

  If he’d let me.

  Big if.

  I want him to know he isn’t alone. If he’s a man weighed down too heavily in the world, then I’m a woman with the tendency to fly too high towards the sun. It seems to me we could act to counterbalance each other.

  Pausing at the door of Les Coquelicots I’m reasonably confident Leo wants to take me to bed, in his own, albeit twisted idea, of good time. But I can’t help wondering if he’ll shy from a relationship in the fear that it will be someone else wanting something from him. I get the sense he already feels as though too much is required of him and a relationship would be extra work he can’t deal with right now. I just wish I could show him that I want to give to him and not to take. That maybe, just maybe, I could actually help.

  I sigh. Whether he’ll listen to me, who knows?

  One of the reasons I came to France was not just for better quality of life but in the hope I’d be more connected to the world around me. No longer squashed into a London Underground carriage, crushed up against a hygienically-challenged passenger while everyone else remained doggedly in their own little worlds, immersed in their headphones or a book.

  I rest my head gently against the front door before I insert the key and start a cacophony of barking. I have to start with being honest with myself. This isn’t just about really, really
wanting sex but about the fact I think I’m falling in love with Leo.

  “Crap,” I whisper and let myself in to be greeted by a mutt-mob.

  Joanna follows them and raises a questioning eyebrow. “You’re back earlier than I expected.”

  “Earlier than I expected too.” I sigh and drop down to the floor to allow the dogs to express their ecstatic relief that I have actually made it home and not abandoned them.

  Confusion and disappointment roll over me like a wave of fatigue. Why would Leo wind me so tight just to deposit me without so much as a look back? I lean against the wall and look directly at Joanna.

  “Why can’t a man…” I try to raise a smile.

  “Be more like a dog?” she finishes with a grin.

  She’d come into the kitchen the day I adopted Barney and had been so taken with my variation from the My Fair Lady “why can’t a woman be more like a man” scene that she’d made up her own set of lyrics.

  “Why can’t a man be more like a dog?” She struts up and down the hall, doing a passable Henry Higgins impression and gets the dogs over excited. Treacle stays curled up on my lap but Peanut loves to show off and is soon dancing on her hind legs. Pickwick spins in mad circles and Barney sticks one ear up and one to the side as though listening intently.

  “From the top then.” Joanna checks she has her canine audience engaged and that my lips are quirking into an involuntary smile.

  “Why can’t a man be more like a dog?

  Dogs are affectionate and love with such ease.

  If you’ll just love them back they’re so easy to please.

  And all they really want is a biscuit and a pat.

  So why oh why can’t a man be more like that?”

  By the end of her performance I’m laughing and get up off the floor.

  Because that’s what you always do. You’re knocked down and you get up again. What other choice is there?

  “Sod ‘em,” Joanna declares, swishing her honey-blonde ponytail empathetically. “Men aren’t worth the hassle, trust me.”

  “Hmm, yes,” I reply distractedly, an erotic flashback to Leo pressing me against the alcove wall in the outdoor spa pool flashes into my mind, winding me with the force of the accompanying longing.