Mallory

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Mallory Page 2

by Michelle Love


  He smiled at that but didn’t say anything. Quilla toyed with the stem of her wine glass.

  ‘Jakob?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would you like some more food? More wine?’

  ‘No, thank you, it was beyond delicious but I couldn’t eat anything else. If it’s not too much to ask, I just want your company for the evening.’

  ‘Of course, let’s go sit on the balcony – and I’m bringing the wine, no matter what you say.’

  ‘Alcoholic.’

  ‘Shut up.’

  She was amazed how easily they could talk – he must be a good ten, fifteen years older than her, maybe more, but she didn’t feel the age gap at all. They seemed kindred spirits, talking about music, Italy, books, food. It was nearly midnight before Quilla suddenly yawned.

  ‘Sorry.’

  Jakob looked amused. ‘It’s late.’

  ‘It is.’ Suddenly there was a little tension in the air. ‘Look,’ she said eventually, ‘you’re a big guy and my couch is tiny. I’ll sleep on that, you take my bed.’ She was blushing furiously but she didn’t know why. Bull shit, she said to herself, you’re attracted to him, is all.

  Jakob shook his head. ‘No way, you’ve done far too much for me already. Do you have a sheet I could borrow?’

  She pulled some sheets and a pillow from her cupboard and gestured towards the kitchen, suddenly so bashful she couldn’t meet his eye. ‘Help yourself to anything you want. Oh…’ She disappeared into the bathroom then came out waving a toothbrush still in its packaging. ‘Lucky I just picked this up.’

  Jakob took it from her. ‘I really can’t thank you enough, Quilla, I mean it.’

  ‘It’s really okay. It’s been an unexpectedly lovely evening.’

  Jakob lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, wondering how he got here. He hadn’t planned on seeing this night or any other. But that tiny girl in the next room…damn, when he’d felt her small hand pulling at his arm, her body pressing him up against the side of the canal, yelling with all her might for someone to help save him, he’d almost wanted to push her away, tell her he wasn’t worth it. Then he’d seen her face. Her ethereal beauty had sent a jolt through his soul, her soft smile, the dark hair hanging in bedraggled strands around the most exquisite face, the flush in her cheeks from the exertion – from saving his life. Jesus…his frazzled, delirious mind hadn’t known anything but that he would do whatever she asked.

  And when he’d calmed himself, talked himself out of the hole, he’d found something new – a new friend, a chance at a new life.

  …If it wasn’t for the millions of bugs crawling under his skin right now, scratching and clawing at his nerves, screaming for their medicine. Cocaine was an evil, insidious mistress and over the last year, he succumbed. Slowly it became a necessity rather than a pleasure; something he thought that he could control. When it became clear it couldn’t…

  He’d walked out of the lounge at Venice Airport, leaving his luggage, his flight to Paris, where his brother Grady was waiting for him. He should call him; let him know he was staying here for a few…

  Wait, what? He pushed aside the sheet that covered him and sat up. Green eyes, pink lips, that smile… He didn’t even know the woman who had saved him, not longer than one day and now, he was what, planning on staying and dragging her into his fucked up life? Shit, no…

  He got up, went to check on his clothes, clean and drying on the balcony. Dry. He took them inside and dressed, shaking his head. The hell was he thinking? He glanced around for paper, a pen.

  Sweet Quilla, there are no words to tell you how thankful I am to have met you tonight, for you being so brave and selfless. Allow me to be the same by not dragging you into my mess, but know I will never, ever forget you. Jakob.

  He ignored the sadness pounding at his heart and left the note on the kitchen table. Unable to resist, he pushed her bedroom door open a crack and looked in. She lay on her stomach, her dark hair clouded around her on the pillow, her dark lashes resting on her cheek.

  Brave, smart, funny and beautiful, Jakob thought as he closed her door, feeling bad for intruding. He slowly padded to the door and stopped. No key. The door was old, no dead bolts, just a good old fashioned lock and key. He glanced around for the missing key, felt above the lintel, move some papers around on the cabinet by the side of the door. Nothing.

  He checked the kitchen and now his pulse quickened. Quilla’s apartment was on the third floor so he couldn’t get out via the balcony. Suddenly all the adrenaline came flooding back into his body, and he was desperate, needing to go find a fix from somewhere. He had people he could call who would know where to go here in Venice but it was useless if he couldn’t even get out of…

  ‘Looking for this?’

  He spun around to find Quilla standing at her bedroom door. In her hand, the key. Jakob met her gaze, already to make up a story but then she smiled sadly.

  ‘What is it? Vicodin? Coke? I know it’s not heroin, you don’t have any track marks, at least from what I could see.’

  She walked towards him, slightly unsteady from sleep and handed him the key. ‘You can have this; you can go, get high, get depressed, and jump in the canal. If that’s what you want. Or you can stay here with me for a few days, get straight, and get some space, just chill out. I’ll help you through withdrawal; I’ve done it before for someone. It would be easy for us to just say goodbye now – we don’t know each other. So, I’ll leave it up to you. I’m going back to bed. If you’re here in the morning, I’ll be delighted. If not, well, you made your bed. Goodnight, Jakob.’

  She turned and walked back into her bedroom and closed the door. Jakob, the key cold in his hand, stared after her with only one thought on his mind.

  I’m going to marry that girl.

  ‘Come on, faster.’

  ‘God, I hate you…’

  Jakob grinned at her as she panted for air. ‘This was your idea, remember.’ Quilla squinted up at him.

  ‘I said ‘let’s go for a stroll in the cool Venice evening, not, hey, let’s race across the city in a hundred degree heat’.’

  Jakob laughed, handing her a bottle of water from his backpack. ‘Hush your grumbling.’ Quilla stuck her tongue out at him, tilting her head back to drain the bottle in one go.

  It had been a week since she’d pulled him out of the lagoon and Jakob could hardly believe the change that had come over him. In that week, Quilla had become his friend, his confident, his challenger, his rock. Jakob Mallory had reached the age of forty seven without forming any serious attachments beyond his brothers and a few friends. Probably why his closest relationship up to now had been his business partner Gregor, an ambitious Harvard grad. Gregor had been the one who shared his ‘secret’ with Jakob, the way he found the energy to work eighty-hour work weeks and still screw his way through the A-list of Seattle’s elite.

  Still, Jakob thought now, all that was going to change. This tiny Asian American woman in front of him had changed all of that. When she’d come back into the living room the morning after they’d met and seen him still there, his long body cramped up on her couch, the smile on her lovely face had been all he had needed to know his decision to stay was the right one. That day, he’d called the airport to find out his luggage had been taken off the plane when he hadn’t checked in, then on the way to get it, he’d called Grady in Paris and said three words. ‘Met a girl.’ Grady had laughed in his gruff way. ‘Hey man, go for it. About damn time.’

  Quilla blew out her cheeks. ‘God…I need a shower.’

  Jakob shook his head. ‘Not yet, wise one, I’ve just seen a gelato cart over there.’ He smiled as she looked excited. Food had been one of the highlights of this past week – she had taught him to cook with fresh ingredients and he had taken her out to some of Venice’s most high-end restaurants. They would sit at the outdoor tables long into the evening, talking about their lives. On the days he hadn’t been able to leave the apartment, the come down from the coke fe
ver too much, she had kept him cool, distracted him, and had one point, as his body became wracked with shivers, wrapped her arms around him to keep him from thrashing about. That had been a bad night, with the delirium that came with withdrawal agony. He’d sweated and spasmed until finally falling asleep on the floor, in Quilla’s arms. When he had awoken, the fever had passed and they were entangled on the floor, Quilla still asleep. Gently, he had lay back down next to her and studied her face, so peaceful when she was asleep. God, he had wanted to kiss her, that gorgeous, blush-pink mouth.

  Jakob Mallory had never been in love – and he didn’t even know if this was love – but damn it, it felt good. Despite the difference in their ages, they connected on so many levels. This was all going through his head when Quilla had awoken herself with a gigantic sneeze, taken one look at him and dissolved into such infectious giggles that he could not help but laugh. It broke the tension. She had pulled him to his feet and sent him to shower while she made coffee.

  The gelato guy grinned at him approvingly as Quilla debated over which flavor to have. ‘Pistachio,’ she finally decided and Jakob nodded.

  Carrying the over-filled cones away, they started to stroll back toward Quilla’s apartment. Casually, Jakob let his hand brush hers, then he took it, not glancing down at her to see her reaction. She didn’t pull her hand away. He risked a sideways look and saw a flush on her cheeks – which could be from running, he told himself – but she seemed very concentrated on the ice cream all of a sudden. They walked slowly back through the tiny streets, over the bridges, stopping to watch the tiny boats and gondolas that traversed the canal system.

  Jakob brushed his thumb over the back of her hand as he held it and he felt her squeeze his fingers just briefly. He looked down at her and she smiled at him, their eyes locking, a moment of understanding passing between them. As the streets grew quieter and night fell, Jakob saw a dimly lit street to the side of them. He glanced at Quilla.

  ‘Adventure?’ He said, his voice low, seductive. He saw her breathing quicken, the blush deepen and she nodded, once. He led her down the street, silent, with the noises of the city far away. A light breeze blew along the narrow street, washing over their hot bodies, giving some relief to the sultry evening. They walked slowly, taking their time before Jakob could bear it no longer and stopped, slipping his hands onto her waist. Quilla looked up at him, her eyes almost shy, but as he bent his head to kiss her, he felt her relax into the embrace. Her lips moved against his, slowly at first then as his big hand fisted her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck, he heard her give a soft moan of desire. His cock was hard against the fabric of his shorts and as Quilla pressed her body against his, he could feel her trembling. As they broke away from the kiss, breathless, he stroked her face.

  ‘Quilla…are you sure you want this?’

  She leaned into his touch, nodding. ‘I’m sure I want you…’

  He grabbed her hand and they were running, then, back to her apartment. Tumbling in the door, they were kissing and tearing their clothes off.

  ‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Quilla said, putting her hands against his chest, ‘I seriously need a shower first or…’

  As Jakob swept her up into his arms, she shrieked with laughter as he carried her into the bathroom.

  Under the cool spray of the shower, they explored each other’s bodies, kissing, stroking, caressing. Quilla moved her hand down to cup his cock, stroking the hot length of it along her belly as Jakob, trailing his lips along her shoulder, slipped his fingers along the slick crevice of her sex. As he massaged her clit, she ground against his hand and with a growl, he tumbled her out of the shower onto the floor.

  ‘I have to be inside you, beautiful…’ and he hitched her legs around his hips. She helped guide him to the entrance of her cunt and as he thrust into her, she gasped at the quick pain of his rigid, huge cock slamming into the core of her. They fucked hard, furiously as if they had no time, were so desperate to be joined, that all their feral, animal needs came flooding out of them.

  Quilla gripped his buttocks, moving her own hips to meet him, angling them up so he could drive himself into her. Jakob, his gaze focused totally on her, marveled of the way her breasts, so full and ripe, and her softly curved belly undulated under their movements as he fucked her.

  ‘Jakob, Jakob….’ Her urgent whisper made his body react, his thrusts becoming fiercer, deeper. Inexorably he drove her towards a shattering climax and when it came he marveled at the way her lips parted, her eyes closed and her head rolled back. He kissed her throat, feeling the vibration of her cry of pleasure shimmer through the delicate skin.

  ‘Quilla…my god, Quilla…’ His body was no longer his, it belonged to her and he came, shooting hot semen deep into her core. She tightened her thighs around his hips, running the tips of her fingers up and down his back, delicious sensations, prolonging his orgasm.

  As they caught their breath, Jakob gathered her to him. ‘God, Quilla, I’ve been wanting to do that since we met.’

  She chuckled shyly, laying her cheek against his hard chest. ‘Me too…but that’s not why I…’

  ‘I know that. Look at me.’

  She looked up and he smiled down at her. ‘You are the best person I’ve ever known, Quilla Chen. You saved me – not just that evening at the canal but in so many ways over the last few days.’

  Her eyes filled with tears. ‘That’s such a lovely...’ she got choked then and he kissed from her forehead down, trailing his lips across her soft cheek until his mouth covered hers.

  ‘Jakob?’

  ‘What is it, baby?’

  She gave a little chuckle. ‘This bathroom tile is really hard.’

  He laughed and got up, pulling her feet. He ran a leisurely hand down her side, admiring the way the full breast fell, the soft belly, almost but not quite flat, the curve of her hips. ‘You really are just beautiful,’ he said idly and she kissed him again.

  ‘Come with me.’ She took his hand and led him to her bedroom. ‘Our playground,’ she said with a grin, ‘bet you’re glad you’re off the couch from now on.’

  Jakob grinned back, and swept her legs from under her, lay her back on the soft bed. ‘Hey, I like that couch. I fully intend to fuck you on that couch.’

  ‘Oh you do, do you?’

  ‘Hell yes. Then I’m going to fuck you on the kitchen table and on the living room floor…’ He was lifting her legs over his shoulders, trailing his lips down the valley between her breasts down to the soft rise of flesh around her navel. His tongue circled and dipped into her bellybutton and he heard her drawing in a very shaky, excited breath. ‘Oh you like that, huh?’

  ‘Where else are you going to fuck me, Jakob Mallory? Jesus…’

  His mouth was on her sex then, tongue sweeping along the soft folds of labia, lashing around her clitoris. He paused for a beat to answer her and she moaned.

  ‘Impatient girl…well, Miss Chen, you have that wonderful balcony. I’ll wait until the early hours of the morning, when the city is quiet…’ He bent his head to taste her again and felt her fingers knot in his short hair, ‘then I’ll taste every part of you, kiss very inch of your skin until you beg me to fuck you so hard, I’ll have to muffle your scream with my hand in case we wake the neighbors…but…’ He was moving up her body again so he could kiss her mouth, ‘we’ll wake the neighbors anyway and silently they’ll watch us, marveling over your beauty, the way you blush and moan as my cock slams into you again and again and again….’

  He plunged into her swollen and ready sex, his cock straining to find the center of her. Jakob put all his weight of his hands, either side of her head and locked his gaze on her face as he thrust into her. Quilla, her limbs liquid under him, gazed back at him as if drinking him in, wanting to memorize his face. She clung to him, her legs moving with him, her breasts pressing up into his chest. He smiled down at her, as their bodies became damp with sweat from the exertion, from the hot Venetian night. Jakob glanced over to the large dus
ty freestanding mirror and smiled.

  ‘Look how beautiful you are,’ he said and lifted her leg so she could see his thick, long cock sliding in and out of her swollen cunt. It was a mesmerizing sight and soon they were clawing and tearing at each other as they came, pausing only to catch their breath, before beginning again, long into the night until the dawn began to break over the city.

  Quilla opened one eye. She lay on her stomach in her bed, her limbs pleasantly sore. Her thighs were aching in a way that made her smile. Jakob wasn’t beside her in bed but she could hear him whistling in the kitchen. Quilla glanced over the clock. It was after noon but she didn’t care. Last night – and this morning – had been the most erotic, most exhilarating night of her life. Only exhaustion had stopped them eventually and she had fallen asleep, wrapped in his thickly muscled arms. She closed her eyes, recalling every part of the night, the way he’d kissed her in the darkened alleyway – she knew without doubt that if he had taken her right then, she would not have turned him down. The idea they might be caught was thrilling to her.

  She felt cool lips against the small of her back then and smiled as they trailed up her spine. The bed dipped as Jakob lay down with her and she turned over. He smiled appreciatively as he ran a hand over her belly, dipped his head to kiss both breasts, tease her nipples with his tongue.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said lazily and felt his laugh rumbled through his big chest.

  ‘Good afternoon, gorgeous. Damn, look at you…even supermodels don’t look like this when they get up…’

  Quilla rolled her eyes. ‘Sweet talker. Perhaps you like the way the pillow seems to have made my face into this abstract art work.’ She turned her far cheek to him and he grinned when he saw the soft skin rumpled from the pillow’s creases.

  ‘I love every line,’ he said, kissing her. ‘I bought you brunch.’

  She heaved herself into a sitting position and looked over to the nightstand. Two long glasses of orange juice stood on a tray with croissants and fresh fruit. ‘Oh yum, I am parched.’

 

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