by K. L. Jessop
My deep laugh fills the room, “Amelia is the Assistant Manager of The Grand and what makes you think she’s in my bed?”
“I’m your mother, Marcus; I recognised the change in your voice on the mention of her name. So spill. Are you fucking her?”
No! And god doesn’t my cock know it. “We’re taking it slow. Can we go back to the original topic, I’m finding discussing my sex life with you a little disturbing.” Her laugh through the receiver was priceless; she always knew that sex talk made me feel like the fourteen year old virgin that’s yet to be pussy whipped.
“It gets you every time dear boy,” she sighs and become serious. “Does Nadia know of the connection with you to the Hotel?”
“I presume so. If not it’s not hard to look it up on the web.”
“Hmm, just be careful, Marcus. People like the Lenton’s don’t spring up without having a hidden agenda.”
I head into the Hotel after stopping of at Fitzford Hill to check on the developments, the team are almost at completion and the interior designers are drawing up the creations for the inside. Amelia’s in deep conversation with one of the room staff as I head towards the lift. Her frame is confident and authoritative as she runs her pen down the paper that’s connected to the clipboard, discussing whatever is on the sheet in front of them. I lean against the wall captivated by her in every way as my eyes roam her sexiness. Long legs stand in red painted heels and are pieced together in a pencil skirt and chiffon wrapped blouse that showed a hint of her bra line underneath. Perfection. I can’t wait to worship every inch of her body when she’s laid bare before me.
She knows I’m close. Her neck begins to dust pink as her cheeks glow by the second and as if on cue her eyes pops up and meet mine. We drink each other in as she bites her goddamn lip. Once the room attendant’s gone I head towards her, wrapping my arms around her waist and stealing her breath with a kiss.
“Hmm and what can I do for you, Mr Matthews?”
“Go get your stuff, I’m taking you out.”
“Uh, yeah my shift finishes in like four hours,” she grins.
“Your shift finished as of two minutes ago. I want us to go have some playtime.” Trepidation washed over her face as I felt her body retreat. I realised I’d said the wrong thing. Clearly she was thinking what I’ve wanted to do to her since day one but that right now was not what I had in mind. “Don’t back up on me. It’s not what you think. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then go get your things.”
Today I want the smile to be etched on her face so her cheeks hurt, she’d been better these last few days after the anniversary of her mum but there was still the drop of hurt from her father that struck her. I wanted her to forget about all of that, and after having fun on the Train at Primrose Lodge I knew of the perfect place to relive our youth.
I check over her clothes as she strides down from her bedroom, not missing the curves of her body as I cruise my eyes down her. “You’re not wearing that, you need to change.”
Her face drops and I’m almost certain panic flashes in her eyes. “What’s wrong with it?” she questions, looking at her pale blue sundress and running her hands over it.
“Nothing, you look sexy as fuck. But where we’re going is far too messy for decent clothes, sorry I should of said. Go find something old that can get dirty.”
Amelia’s nervous energy was on high alert whilst in the car. Constantly twitching, tapping and fidgeting with anything and everything as we head down the coastal roads. I could have eased her nerves by telling her where we were heading but I chose not to. I wanted her to be on edge, not because I was an ass and liked to see her suffer, but because I wanted her to feel completely comfortable with me and know that whatever her reaction to things it isn’t going to change the way I am with her.
I switch off the ignition, focusing on the foreground in front of us as shouts and screams of laughter fill the air.
“Paint-balling?” her wide-eyes and agape mouth was humorous as I hold back a chuckle.
“You up for it?”
“Isn’t it dangerous? People get hurt at these places and end up with bruises and shit,” she turns in her seat to face me. “And if paint goes in your eyes you can go blind, Marcus... Blind!”
My laugh erupts the space between us as she tries to sustain the disapproval look on her face. “I’m serious, this shit isn’t safe.” she chuckles as I unclip our belts before leaning forward.
“Babe, this is old school paint-balling. They don’t use guns and even though the paint is non-toxic our eyes are protected.”
Her eyes narrow. “So if there are no guns how does it work?”
“We just throw paint balloons and run round like mad fuckers. Trust me it’s completely safe. Me and my sister came here all the time as kids.”
Haystacks piled high with endless splats of colour decorate the area of the outside field; flags stand tall and vibrate in the wind above us as people sped around in their rainbow colour clothing. From the moment we stepped into the balling ground and started throwing paint balls, anxious Amelia instantly changed into a high-spirited chick with her none stop squeals of laughter, hot-footing it around like the roadrunner. Her laugh is infectious and her face lights up like the first ray of sunshine on a clear sky morning. I love seeing her like this, carefree and vibrant, this is how her life should be like and not forever carrying a dark cloud over her.
I quietly tiptoe around the stack of high hay blocks as I duck my body low trying to find her. I’m caught off guard and before I had chance to register her movements I’m hit from behind. Turning quickly, I take a balloon from my bag and launch it at her, splattering green paint across her back as she tries to run from me. “Take that, Weston.”
She throws a balloon back but it hits the ground at my feet. Another and it splats on the hay behind me. “You’re really good at this aren’t you?” I say sarcastically.
“Just you wait, I’ll get your rainbow ass when you least expect it.” I laugh at her choice of words and through another, hitting her on the stomach as she shrieks.
“Oops, pardon me.”
She takes another shot, this time I’m hit full whack on the head, thick dollops of yellow drip over my hair and goggles as Amelia jumps up and down laughing hysterical. “Ha! Touché.”
I smeared the paint from my goggles and began my plot of revenge, a mischievous chuckle leaves my throat as I slowly step towards her. “Now that was a wrong move, Weston. This. Means. War.”
She darts with a shriek. Balloon upon balloon fly in her directing hitting her back, shoulders and ass before she reaches a dead end and becomes trapped against high haystacks. Covering her face with her hands I continue my attack, her body covered in a whirlpool of colours. The laughter and squeals blowing out into her hands is like music to my ears. She is loving every minute. Once my bag is empty I throw it aside along with my goggles. Striding towards her I pull off her own goggles, slam her back against the haystack and crash my mouth on hers, lifting her by the ass to wrap her legs around me. Her fingers lace my paint slick hair with a tug, causing me to groan. I can never get enough of kissing this woman. She’s like a drug, each kiss is better than the last. It’s hot, greedy and undoubtedly passionate as I work her mouth with mine. My cock uncomfortably hard and pressed against her as I pull her bottom lip with my teeth. “Fuck, Amelia, you’re killing me.”
***
“Marcus, can I ask you something?”
Picnic treats from our food hamper are spread amongst the straw bed as we lay resting under the scorching sun, fragments of paint dry in cracks on our skin as the rest of the thick clumps begins to fry under the heat. Hands entwined as we focus on the clear sky.
“Ask away.”
“What was your last relationship like? How long were you together?” This was a conversation I didn’t want to open up to, but I knew I needed to give something in return to build the trust.
“I thought it was a great on
e, we were together nearly four years. Then it went to shit when I walked in on them. Sadie was screwing my best friend right under my nose. Neither of them were who I thought they were.”
“I was with someone that wasn’t who I thought he was. People change when the door closes, yet still manage to fool those around them making out they’re perfect.”
“It was hard. Not only did I lose her, I lost my best friend. I lost control after that and went out and drank my way through the bars and fucked my way through half of London. I become a shadow of the person I was. Then one night a few home truths from my mum made me realise I was letting them win with the person I’d become.”
“What happened?”
“I threw myself back into work as a distraction and gave my dick the biggest dry spell it’s ever seen. I’ve not been near a woman in over a year. Then I found you. I thought Sadie was the one for me. I gave her everything. If she wanted something I’d buy it. If she asked for money, I’d give it. All the while she was laughing in my face and spreading her legs for another.”
Amelia turns on her side propping her head up with her hand. “Materialistic things mean nothing. All a man should ever need to give a woman is his time, heart and protect her in all the rightful ways.” Lifting a finger I watch as she paints an outline heart of blue on my bare chest. Flicking her eyes back at mine with contentment. “You are a good man, Marcus, don’t let anyone make you think differently.” Here was a beautiful angel in need for freedom yet she’s consoling my insecurities and demons of my past whilst fighting her own.
“And you are breathtakingly special, and like no other woman I’ve come in contact with. I can’t wait to make you mine.” Her eyes flash with something, I’d like to believe its desire but as fast as I see it they’re quickly flooded in fear. “But I only want that when you feel ready.”
We lay silent under the sun holding each other’s gaze with unspoken words; Amelia leans in to place her lips softly on mine before whispering, “Do you have paint on your fingers?”
“No why?” I say with questionable eyes, while desire now defiantly running strong in her pure blues.
“Make me cum.”
My eyes-widen as she bites her lip with a naughty grin. “Here?” I look around. “Where anyone could walk by?”
“Please, Marcus.” She lifts her hips to me and takes hold of my neck pulling my close, darting her tongue into my mouth to take control. Letting me know she’s serious. I push her onto her back and beam at her naughty behaviour.
“You know for a woman living on her nerves, you sure got some balls.”
Her grin was a mile wide as she crinkles her nose up. “Well you see there’s this guy and he’s slowly bringing me back to life.”
That was all I needed for my hand to invade her panties and my mouth to hit hers.
Chapter Fourteen
Amelia
Me: I’m super nervous; I’ve just fucked up the sauce for the third time. X
Megan: Stop freaking out and just breath, you will be fine. Love you x
It’s been over a month since Marcus first walked into my life and knocked me on my ass, taking over my mind like a whirlwind and invading my personal space daily. Wanting and needing to progress our connection a little further, I decided to cook for him and I’d be lying if I said I was excited. I’m not. I’m totally freaking out. My nerves are off the chart for reasons beyond my control and my shaky hands are constantly dropping things.
My stomach somersaults at the sound of the door.
Just breathe, you can do this.
My breath caught once I opened the door; his white shirt heightens his tanned biceps while his dark jeans hug his hips as he stands with a look of awe, working his eyes down my body and causing a flutter in my belly. “Wow, Amelia, you look amazing.” I’ve changed six times before he arrived and went back to the original bottle green dress I started with.
After pouring us both a drink I flurry around the kitchen, placing items in the oven and cleaning as I go along. Trying my hardest to keep myself busy from erupting into an anxiety attack. That was one thing I learnt over time when cooking for a man, I had to keep myself distracted from his disapproving gaze, only the eyes carving into me right now contain nothing but inquisitiveness.
“Can I help with anything?”
“No, no. I’m fine.” My words show the panic behind them.
Marcus gently grips my wrist and draws me to him, taking my other hand in his he studies me. “But you’re not fine. You’re all over the place, Amelia. You’ve hardly spoke or looked at me since I got here. What’s wrong?”
I look at our entwined hands and bite my lip, letting out a much needed deep breath. “I’m nervous.” I whisper.
“About me being here?”
“About cooking for you. Whenever I cooked for Daniel he’d-” I didn’t want our night to involve a conversation with his name any longer. This was our time and no other person needed to be a part of it. “-It just makes me nervous that’s all.”
“Don’t be nervous babe, I want to be here. And whatever is in that oven smells fucking incredible. Now, no arguments what can I do to help?”
“Well my glass is crying for a refill.” I grin, his breath tickled my lips before they join mine, washing away the edge of my anxieties like he always had a way of doing.
Marcus set the table while I served us marinated duck in a five spice, cinnamon and soy sauce, along with roasted vegetables.
This was it.
Another one of my major steps in knowing what sort of man sat before me as I place his dinner in front of him and filled his glass with an unsteady hand, clocking his eyes on my shaky pouring. I held my breath and gripped the napkin under the table as I watched him take the first bite. His eyes briefly close and a deep hmm leaves his throat. “Holy shit, Amelia, this is amazing.”
Relief left my lungs with a smile. “It was my mum’s secret dish.”
“Well thank you Mrs Weston for creating a remarkable woman who can continue with her recipes. Shit girl, I need more of your cooking in my life.” He winks, and I fall into a relaxed state of mind and enjoy our meal together.
***
Leona Lewis plays softly into the low lit room as I cuddle up against Marcus, enjoying the powerful kisses he never failed to provide. My shoulders ache through a day of nervous energy, all the while I’m beginning to fight another round of anxiety to the one I faced earlier. I have no doubt Marcus will stay-he has on many occasions, but tonight there’s been a shift between us and that worries me. It threatens everything we’ve done together over the last month. Because I know as quickly as he stormed into my world, he’ll leave just as fast once he knows. Once he sees.
His hazel eyes burn like fire into mine as he lifts me chin. Chills cover my skin as his breath hits my lips, “Amelia, I’ve tried so hard to be patient because I knew it’s what you needed, but I can’t wait a second longer. I’ve wanted you from the first night I saw you in the club. I want to make you mine.”
My insides tangle as panic threatens my chest. “I-I…Marcus, I-” I go to flee from the comfort of his arms but he grasps my elbow and stands from the sofa, pressing his front to my back. Deep breaths leave me as I try to control my nerves, hanging my head in shame of what lies beneath my dress. The evidence of what my history will show him.
My heart’s racing, the intense heat from his body ignites within me. The light strokes of his fingertips down my arms cause my eyes to close, goosebumps to glaze my skin as he kisses the weak spot on my neck. I fail to hold back the whimper as his hand spans my stomach, pushing me against his erection. “Don’t tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you, because I know you do. I see it. I feel it. I taste it on you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. “Let me have you, Amelia. Let me make you mine.”
I want him so much I can’t breathe. But there’s been no one since Daniel. I didn’t want anyone close. I couldn’t let anyone in.
“Take off your dress.”
/> “Marcus, I ca-” Strong hands turn me, his hazel eyes darken and hold my gaze.
“Take it off, Amelia.” His command was low, and there was something within his tone that made my guard slip and I find myself granting his request. My shaky hand takes to the zip and I let the green material slink to the floor. I stand before him trembling in my underwear with my eyes shut tight not wanting to see his reaction.
Exposed. Tainted. Vulnerable.
I gasp when his lips press to the silver scar on my chin, the ones on my collarbone, before dropping to his knees to kiss the burn marks that shimmer red over the left side of my waist. His kiss was like an angel’s whisper. Loosening the heaviness in my heart in which I’ve carried all these years. Only Megan and Lucas have seen my body and the scars that tell a story. Scars from brutal hands and implements where I was once a victim in a cold case love.
“Turn around.”
A hot tear rolls down my cheek, “Please don’t make me do this.”
“Turn around for me. I need to see you,” he whispers, his eyes coated in both empathy and desire.
My chest is tight with emotion as I slowly turn my quivering body to reveal the scars that sicken me when I catch them in the mirror. The deep red marks and welts that lay like a crumpled road map on my back. The ones to this very day still remind me of the pain I faced.
The sound of his hitched breath makes my head fall into my hands and my heart hurt with shame. This was where he should have ran. Leave me and my vile body alone in the cold space of the room. But he never did. Sweeping my hair from my back and over my shoulder, Marcus gently trails his fingertips over my back before kissing every inch of my broken battered body.
I crumble above him.
Worshipping my body with his touch like no one has before, healing me with his lips as he marks his ownership with them. This man has ways of making my greatest fear banish in seconds and make my hideous body feel anything but ugly. He stands to turn me, brushing away my tears with his thumbs, forcing me to look at him. “Is this why you’ve held back?”