“That it does. I’m afraid I couldn’t get fat soaked wrappers and plastic forks, though, so it’s only half naughty. We’ll make up for the other half later.” Oh god, that is so sweet.
“You remembered?” I say as I think of Rome. His eyebrow lifts as he picks up a chip and puts it in my apparently open mouth.
“I remember everything about you, baby. I’ve never taken a woman to a high-end restaurant and had them tell me they’d have preferred fish and chips before. The moment is etched quite firmly in my mind. In fact, I’ve had some quite explicit images of your body and greasy fingers ever since,” he says as he takes one for himself.
“Wow, that’s… impressive, and actually a little bit tormenting,” I reply with the biggest grin I have. This is what love is - remembering the little things. Good lord, he’s good.
“Mmm,” he mouths as he picks up the plates expertly. He even looks good holding plates, for God’s sake. “Now, table or knees?” he asks as he juggles the plates to one arm, waiter style, and picks up the napkins and cutlery.
“Carpet, and we must have a crappy movie - something funny, and when on earth were you a waiter?” He chuckles and moves across to the lounge area. I follow him quickly.
“I had to earn my keep to stay with Giuseppe’s family. Sixty hour weeks were the norm. I can also make a mean cocktail. Get the blanket.” I do and lay it out on the floor in front of the hyper modern flat screen with a smile. “Want to know something else?” he continues as he places the food down.
“Always.” Information is always good.
“A month after trying to steal that apple from their kitchen, his mother made me stand by her side in the kitchen and make an apple pie. She glared at me the entire time and spoke so fast in Italian that I didn’t understand a word, but each time she smacked my hands with her spatula, I learned a very valuable lesson,”
“Which was?”
“Watch extremely carefully and learn, and under no circumstances put your fingers in a hot pie.” He chuckles at the memory and then his eyes light up. “She also taught me to throw knives,” he says as he picks up a steak-knife sharp end first and points it at a canvas picture on the wall of a woman. “Necklace.” He launches it at the wall and it amazingly lands in the middle of the red heart pendant on a chain around her neck.
“Wow, that’s extraordinary,” I say as my gaze lingers on the heart around her neck. Could he have aimed it anywhere else? Please. “I hope it’s not a metaphor.” His gaze drops from the picture to mine instantly and he crawls across to me and kisses my nose.
“If it is, it was my thought and therefore my heart. You’re right in the middle of it, Elizabeth, and I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” Okay, that’s all kinds of lovely and so not what I expected.
“Sweet,” I reply sarcastically as I reach around him for another chip.
“Yes, even I’m amused by my own statements lately,” he says as he moves back to his own food thoughtfully. “Did it get me off the hook for being such an arse?” His sexy chuckle is almost infectious, almost.
“Absolutely not. You’ll have to give me more for my forgiveness.”
“More of what?” he says devilishly with a twinkle of lust forming.
“Information,” I reply as I bite into my fish. “Sex will not get you out of this.”
“What do you want to know?” he says casually as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to tell me everything about himself.
“Where did you go earlier?” I ask without skipping a beat. Quick fire is definitely the way forward with him. He instantly stills his chip to mouth movement and hovers for a second.
“That’s difficult to explain.” His brow furrows as he dips it in his red sauce and pops it into his delicious mouth, so trying to deflect. I can’t help watching his mouth though.
“Try.” Stop looking at his mouth, Beth. I do and gaze at his eyes instead. They’re still as captivating as ever and I smile at own absurd reaction to him as I watch his brain ticking over. Thirty minutes ago I was bound and slapped, and now we’re having a normal conversation over fish and chips in what is probably a thousand pound a night suite on a blanket on the floor. Well, not a normal conversation, obviously. He abruptly wipes his hands on his napkin and sits up straighter.
“I have managed my life to a degree without feelings being involved. Emotions are debilitating for me so I try to stay focused on anything but them. If I am emotional and I become that way inclined, I disregard them immediately. It’s the only way I can stay in control of the world around me. Dominance, for me, is about being decisive and resolute. Unfortunately, if my feelings become involved, I can’t think clearly enough and therefore I am no longer dominant in my nature, which is most definitely not the point.” His brow furrows again for a second as if he’s searching for something. “I suppose the act of domination in itself tends to direct my focus elsewhere, which in turn enables me to organise my mind effectively again, and subsequently controls my emotions.”
Oh bloody hell, could that have been any more complicated?
“Well that’s psychology at its best,” I reply with a frown as I nibble on a chip. I’m really not sure I understand any of it, so what I’m supposed to say is anyone’s guess. I think I’ve memorised the statement so I’ll have a think about it later.
“Is that all you want?” he replies as he returns to his chips as if he’s just told me about Little Bo Peep or something equally mundane. I still can’t stop watching his hands as he sucks at his fingers.
“Well, you don’t always act like that, so what made tonight different? I’ve never been with you when you’ve been so...” What was he? Foreign? Cold? Scary?
“Removed? Distant? Disconnected?” he cuts in as he shuffles forward and pulls my hand directly to his heart. Within seconds he’s shifted me onto his lap and wrapped an arm around me. I don’t know how to describe him. I lost him to a place that is apparently okay for him, but for me it was unknown, intimidating even. Yes, still hot, but nervously so.
“Unfamiliar… You were unnerving and cold, like you didn’t want to acknowledge me, like I couldn’t give you enough or something,” I reply quietly. He nudges my head into his neck with his chin and traces patterns on my arm soothingly. He’s also not answering, which can only lead me to believe that was the intention in the first place. Why would he want to remove himself from me?
“I’d like you to help me with something, if you could,” he says eventually in a soft voice. I have no idea what on earth I could help him with.
“Okay,” I reply with bated breath. It’s unlikely I can assist him with anything, but if I can then I obviously will. Who wouldn’t do anything for the man?
“I have a meeting next Thursday that I’d like you to attend with me, if you can.”
“Okay…” I still have no idea what he’s talking about but I’ll go. Shit! I have a busy day on Thursday. “Oh, wait, what time?”
“Six thirty,” he says as he moves his hand to my head and twirls my hair. Oh, that’s nice.
“Oh, that’s fine then, great. Would you like to volunteer more information about the meeting?” I’m now intrigued.
“Not particularly,” he whispers as he moves back and tips my chin up to him then frowns. Shit, have I got red sauce on my face? “Do you know I’ve hardly had to tell you to keep your head up at all? Are you finally believing in yourself?”
“Good teacher,” I say as I gaze at him and smile. He really is. For all his versions and fuck ups, he gave me this strength, whether he meant to or not, and through joy or pain, I am stronger because of him.
“No, Elizabeth, I simply showed you the way. You’ve found the destination all by yourself,” he replies with his mouth mere inches from mine, soft lips reaching for mine quietly as he nips and then sucks in my bottom lip. “You are more than I could ever be. You are truly astounding and you have already surpassed any expectation I ever had of you,” he continues as he lowers me toward the floor. Oh right,
we’re going there again then? Yes, please. I fold my hands around his neck and bring him down to me, his eyes light blue with a hint of darkening that makes his intentions clear as he picks at the top button of my shirt.
“Stay with me this time,” I say as I lean my head back and sigh at the feel of his weight on me again. Please stay with me. Make love to me. Hold me close.
“Try as I might, I never left you last time, regardless of what you might have felt at the time,” is his response as he makes his way down my body and nudges my legs apart. “If I say your name, baby, you’ll know I’m still there with you.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief as he splays his hands under my back and lifts my chest up to him. My back arches and with one swipe of his tongue over my already hard nipple, I’m begging... again.
Chapter 10
Elizabeth
A fter my mum’s usual three course, Sunday-on-a-Monday lunch with all the trimmings and a good few glasses of wine, Belle and I are making our way back to London in the peeing down rain in her car, trying not to talk about the fact that mum looks ill. She wouldn’t talk about it and she refused to even hear of us helping her out in the kitchen, but we could both see it. I especially noticed the way Dad was fussing around after her and then he did the washing up. That did it for me. The last time he did anything remotely domesticated was when she had her mastectomy.
Shit.
I’ve been trying very hard to think about my wonderful weekend to take my mind off it. Obviously it had its complications but it was still fantastic. I’ve never felt closer to him. Saturday night and Sunday morning were spent making love, giggling and running around naked. After the first round of confusing Alex, he turned into a genuinely open and expressive version of himself, still brutal but happily so and he even surprised me by telling me some more about his childhood. Vile as most of it was, I still appreciated him opening up to me about it. If I ever meet his father, I will not be able to contain my rage and will more than likely explode at him.
We both looked at the pictures of his mother. I gasped in shock at the similarity while he quietly studied her face with no obvious expression. It was clear to see where he’d gotten his eyes and mouth. The young woman was beautiful, and her long blonde hair and blue eyes dazzled me even from the photo. Her smile was captivating. It had a serene quality that made you feel at peace with yourself somehow and it struck me at the time that I hadn’t seen that smile from Alex. Hints of it maybe, the slight tilt that encourages true happiness, and yet his mouth was so similar to hers that I knew he should be capable of the full-blown version.
Does he have any peace in him at all? His height, build and dark hair clearly come from his father and there’s also a hint of something around his eyes that doesn’t belong to his mother. I only ever see it when he’s angry or frustrated but it’s definitely there, lurking, waiting for the storm to brew up. Is that where he gets his anger from? If it is then his father probably put it there with his abuse. Bastard.
“So what do you think?” Belle’s voice lifts me from my memories. “Do you think it’s back?” I turn to look at her as she grips the steering wheel as if she’s going to rip it off at any second. She probably is, knowing her.
“Oh God, I hope not. I’m not sure she can go through it again. She was such a mess last time and Dad definitely can’t deal with it. Did you see him washing up?”
“Yep, it’s not good, is it?” She’s making a statement and I don’t answer her as I turn back to watch the road with sadness rolling across me again. Mum will never make it again. She barely made it the last time.
Cars whizz past us at a rate of knots as if they’re all desperate to beat the London rush hour. I don’t know why they bother. London is always in rush hour. It never stops, aside from early Sunday mornings when at least a few people try for a lie in. A small white car sidles up beside us and I notice the little boy in the back. He turns towards me and gazes across. I can’t help but think of Alex as his blue eyes twinkle at me and his little tongue pokes out. I poke mine out and giggle at him but inside I’m crying. Did he ever smile as a boy? Did he even know what a genuine smile was or how it felt to be happy? Does he even know now, as a grown man? It’s suddenly my mission to make sure he does.
“Are we going home or to a bar? It’s only five but I think I could do with a drink, preferably four,” Belle asks as we hit the outskirts.
“Where’s Conner today?” I ask quickly. She looks across at me in confusion.
“And that’s of any significance because…?”
“Well, Alex is around and I thought it might be nice to all have a drink together, and as you never went with the wind up Conner by seeing someone else method, I assume everything’s okay again. Maybe we should just call them and see if they’re about. I’d really like if you and Alex could get on again.” She looks at me with narrowed eyes and then shakes her head at herself. She doesn’t like him. I get it. But honestly, she’s the one who pushed me back, well maybe a little, actually not at all, but she did say he was good for me, sort of.
“Oh right, yes, he’s at the office today so he’ll probably be up for it. Text him for me,” she says as she throws me her phone. I do. The responding beep within a minute tells me it’s from him. “Open it up, see what he said.” I do and instantly gasp.
“I’m not even thinking about reading that out loud, Belle. It’s revolting. Needless to say, he’ll meet us at INK if we want at seven thirty.” She laughs at me.
“I assume you didn’t tell him it was you then? He likes phone sex. It’s his thing. Go on read it to me.” I’m sure my face is beetroot red as I glance down at the words again.
“He says he wants to... Well, it’s to do with dildos and his big...” I can’t finish it as I watch her dissolving into fits of hysterics beside me.
“You, young lady, cannot seriously be embarrassed about that with all the shit you’re currently up to with Mr. White, and text him anyway, I need to know where to go. I don’t even think INK is open at this time of day,” she says through her giggles. I’m also now chuckling to myself at the thought of my mortification. It is a bit ridiculous.
I pick up my phone and text.
- Hey, do you fancy a drink with Conner and Belle at seven ish? x
The response is pretty quick.
- Where?
- We’re coming into London now. Is INK open yet? x
- It is for you. Gate access for parking 11324453. Press 9113427745 on the back door key pad. Once you’re in, release the alarm with Meritato27.
- Wow, that’s a lot of numbers x
- I’ll get there as soon as I can. Help yourselves. Music’s behind the bar, fourth button on the top panel.
- Thank you, Mr. White. x
- You’re very welcome, Miss Scott.
“We’re going to INK apparently. He’s given me a shit load of access codes to get in,” I say to Belle as she turns into Kensington. I look up to see where we are and smile.
“Free admission to the bar? Well fucking fantastic. Ooh isn’t this where Alex lives?” she says as she scans the houses with the eyes of a hawk.
“Yep.” I can’t help the smile. She really does have a thing for big houses. “Where does Conner live anyway? I never have asked you.”
“Apartment on the river, penthouse of course. Actually, I think it’s two knocked into each other,” she says with a wry smile. “Ostentatious, very modern and very computerized as you can imagine. I have to enter my handprint just to get in the door. The fucking coffee machine makes your coffee by recognizing your voice.” She’s chuckling again.
“Next you’ll tell me he has robots cleaning for him,” I reply with a laugh.
“He does, two of the little freaky things, weird if you ask me but there you go.” I open-mouth gape at her. Really? “So which is his?” she says, still scanning the road so I point at the oncoming gates. She immediately slams on the brakes and whips the car over to them. “Holy fuck!” she exclaims as she looks up th
e drive. I giggle. It is pretty bloody impressive and I remember feeling exactly the same the first time I arrived here. In fact I still do most of the time.
“Quite,” I reply as I gaze at those now more friendly red doors and think of who lives inside. The manicured front lawn has been cut to within an inch of its life and the ivy creeping along the front looks glorious as it dips gracefully along the edge of the windows.
“Has he asked you to move in?” she asks out of the blue as her brow furrows and she sighs. “Because that would make such a nice family home.”
Where the hell did that come from? Family? From Belle? Really? And move in with him...? Oh my god, no, well... No.
“What? No, we’ve only just got back together,” I reply sharply as I give her my best what the hell are you on look. “Has Conner?”
“Yes,” she replies with a small twitch of her mouth. What? She’s so thinking about doing it.
“Really? Wow, that’s... Bloody hell, what did you say?” I can’t believe he asked her. I’m shocked to say the least. Mr. Avery permanently off the market will probably send every magazine into overdrive or something.
“No,” she replies as she indicates and pulls out into the traffic again. “It’s his apartment. If I do it, we’ll get somewhere together. I want joint custody of my own home, thank you very much.”
“I can’t believe you’re thinking of this. I mean, it’s wonderful and I’m so happy for you, but I just never thought you’d go all in and really try this again.” All thanks to Marcus Shitfield, of course.
“I love him, mindboggling as that is, and he’s damned persistent,” she says with a shrug as if there’s nothing left to question. I suppose there isn’t with Belle. Once she’s made a decision, she’s normally full-on with it.
“Well you should go for it then,” I exclaim as I grin across at her. She looks slightly baffled by her own admission suddenly. “If you want to, that is. I mean, you don’t have to obviously. You could just keep dating and think about it later.” She still looks perplexed.
Feeling White Page 21