He joins me in the living room with a plate of homemade oat cookies. He puts it down in front of us on the coffee table and grabs my tea to give it to me before he takes a seat right next to me on the couch. He could have chosen to sit on the other one, but he decided to sit closer to me. Should I be reading into this? I am reading too much into this.
For fuck's sake, when will I get that this could never work. Why would he want somebody like me? And I him?
It's evident why I would want him... He's incredibly intelligent. He is driven, passionate, rational and collected, extremely good looking and he sees me for my talent and my intellect over any physical trait. He knows me by my actions and not any trivia questions about my likes and dislikes, he learned them without asking about it. He has known my worst side, before knowing my best... That's why I feel such a natural attraction towards him. Because I do, I won't deny it no more. Our friendship grew naturally. It isn't the easiest, but we know each other lots more that way than I know the band, for example.
I sigh deeply and take a long sip of my burning hot tea to hide how deeply I was thinking about him.
"What happened in Camden, Marcel? Why do you always ask me to take you by the waist?" I rip off the band-aid and look at him gently giving him my entire attention. My tone was calm, but direct.
"I hate that part of London. I never go there." He only responds, but it's not cold as an answer, I think it's because it might be too personal.
"Why were you there tonight, then?" I try to understand, being very careful that his attitude could change at me any time.
"It's Eddy's first show of the tour, I wanted to be supportive."
"Why do you hate it?"
"I don't want to talk about it..." He only says and hides behind his tea, taking a long sip.
"OK..." I let go of the topic and don't put up a fight.
"It scares me..." He begins to say and I see the struggle through his traits. He instantly gets my attention.
I put my cup of tea on the coffee table and get more comfortable on his couch to look at him.
Something very hard must have had happened to him and I really don't want him to go into that dark place. So, I put my hand on his knee to stop him from talking about things he doesn't want to. I have never seen him like that.
"It's OK, Marcel. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." I tell him to comfort him, but he can't stop looking at my hand. I feel suddenly giddy, but very nervous.
"I don't know what it is about you... that makes me want to talk about things I never felt the need to share before." He admits and, as it always does, my heart beats at a crazy rhythm for him. I want him to know he can share whatever he wants with me. I am here to listen to him and never judge.
"Then, talk to me. About anything. I want to be there for you like you were for me." I encourage him to let it all out.
"I don't know how to..." He looks down at his hands around his cup of tea on his lap.
On a huge leap of faith, I take off my hand and slide closer to him. I take my hand and reach to cup his cheek. I caress his skin gently and tangle the tip of my fingers in his hair at the base of his neck, rubbing my thumb on his roughly shaved cheek.
"Look at me." I ask him and wait for him as he takes his time. When he does, I smile softly. "Just begin by telling me how you feel."
He gazes right into my eyes, hoping I will get through his walls, hoping he will let me in. I wait. A long time. But I would wait all night if it's what he needs. I finally fell his vulnerability and it's beautiful.
"I feel good, torn, uneasy, sad, happy, envious, mad,..." He enumerates slowly like a robot until he is at loss of words.
"Why do you feel like that? Why do you feel mad?"
"Steeve coming here, hurting you, scaring Ronnie,..." He finally shrugs it off, so I question him about something else.
"Why do you feel sad?" I ask very gently, my thumb caressing his cheek tenderly.
"Because..." Is only what he answers, so I don't force an answer out of him, so I make him focus on what makes him feel good.
"Why do you feel good?" I ask very nicely, to make him feel more at ease since he told me he wasn't really feeling like it.
He isn't looking at me and I hate it, I want to read his face, look into his eyes...
"Because of you..."
I hold my breath, my heart is racing in my chest. I feel suddenly very giddy and chills raise all the hair on my body.
"Why do I make you feel good?" I swallow and ask him, blinded by hope.
He doesn't look at me, but he doesn't look at anything at all. He closes his eyes and sighs. He lets his head go against my hand and I see him letting himself go in front of me. He is leaning into my hand on his cheek and I think back on what Ronnie had told me about their night together. He wasn't affectionate at all. He told me he wasn't used to being like that.
"This is all so new to me..." He blurs out in a low whisper.
"What is?"
I look at him a long time, seeing how he debates inside of himself to let it out, but he fights himself. I don't know if it's shame or his pride that brakes him from opening up to me about his feelings...
"Feeling like that. The gentle caress on my skin, the tickle in my stomach and through all my body when you touch me. I am not used to that." I get the same exact feeling and get silently overjoyed to hear his declaration, but I keep calm to push him a little bit more.
"Why are you not used to feel like that? Did you never have a girlfriend?"
"I did, but none that stuck long enough to involve any kind of feelings. There was once a woman I was crazy about, but affection was weakness to her. So that's all I know..."
"How long were you with her?"
"A couple of years..."
Holy fuck!
"And never did she did this to you?" I feel so sad that he missed out of all these small carnal pleasure, so I slide the back of my fingers gently on his cheek and run my thumb on his lower lip remembering just how wonderful his kiss has made me feel every time.
Again, he leans into my hand and I see him ravish, his eyes closed, of this little affection.
"No. She barely kissed me. I wasn't aloud to, unless she wanted me to. I was so young, all I knew was what I had read in books, she told me I was delusional, a dreamer, that it wasn't how it really works in a relationship." He tells me, his eyes never holding mine for long. He seems so ashamed, or maybe lost.
"Tell me how you felt when I kissed you, the first time, in my bedroom."
"I was surprised and I grew scared of how it made me feel." I want to push more answers out of him, but he continues. "There's a part of me that wanted to throw you on the bed and fuck you, because that's all I know. She taught me that feelings come across better through sex than any other kind of affection, but I had never felt anything like that before so I walked away from you, because I didn't know how to deal with it."
Did he just say that he wanted to have sex with me? Do I excite him like he does with me? Or was I just an easy prey? This is so messed up...
"Then why did you ignore me all week?"
"Grace..." He winces and I know I am pushing his limits, but I need to get to the bottom of this.
"You can feel free to say anything, Marcel. I will never judge you. You can trust me..." I whisper tenderly.
"I didn't know what to do. When I dropped you off on Saturday, I saw the drummer and you being affectionate at Sophie's. I thought that I wasn't any special to you, that you were in better hands with him and that I shouldn't bother anymore and keep things professional."
I look at him silently, without saying a thing, being lost in my own thoughts, thinking it all back. He gazes at me quickly, the time to meet my eyes a short second. He takes my hand off his face and looks down at it.
"Don't look at me like that, Grace." I am hurt by the way he acts, he seems so sad and down.
"Like what?" I ask him softly, making my best to not scare him away.
"Like you pity me." Our eyes meet again, but he seems to get cold again, he is putting his walls back up.
"I don't." I kind of lie, but it grows to be a truth as I think further about what he went through and how he could blossom to become. "I am feeling sorry for your ex girlfriend, actually."
He frowns and finally looks up into my eyes as a smile grows on my lip.
"She missed out on all the wonderful things you make me feel." I take his hand and put it on my heart as it's pounding like it never has before. His eyes grow wide a second, looking at his hand, then my eyes. "This, what you feel against your hand, is not weakness. It's strength. That is special. You are special. Nobody has ever made me feel anything as passionately as you do."
"What does that mean?"
"It means, I missed you like crazy this week. It means that I want to kiss you again and again, because you bring such technicolor to my life. It means I want to talk with you about anything, because you know so much and it mesmerises me. It means I want to spend more time with you, watching movies, arguing, doing literally anything with you. It means I want to cherish you, because you deserve so much. And this is how a relationship works."
"Why would you want that with me?" He asks and it makes me frown.
"Because I trust you. I admire you as a person and I love your company. I think I have proven that with the contract. But the question is, do you want the same out of me?" I smile to him, my heart pounding with adrenaline from this confession he just did. I feel so hopeful.
"No..."
I back away instantly. His response is hurting me like a dagger through my heart. I've just opened up to be stabbed like that?! He doesn't want me. I'm just making him realise that there is more to life than what he has always known, like Ash has been for me.
"I don't know what I want, because I don't know how I feel. I know how I feel through sex. It's all I have ever known." He pleads and it infuriates me.
"Well, if sex is all you want out of me, I am sorry to tell you I am not that kind of woman." I let out being very disappointed and hurt.
"You are telling me you are not sleeping with the drummer?!" He retorts with attitude and I get up instantly, very hurt and taken aback.
"It's so much more than that, Marcel! That drummer has made me realise I was destined to be more than what Steeve has always made me think I was. He made me realise that there was more to life than what I have ever known. He made me embrace myself. He made me feel like I could find somebody I could give myself wholeheartedly to and would love me for it."
"Why don't you go to him, then, if he is so good to you?!" He gets up, determined to not let me win this argument, but this is so not what this is about.
"Because he doesn't make me feel the way you do, OK?!" I shout at him as I realise how masochistic I am to want to pursue my feelings with this wreck of a man.
"How do I make you feel?" He frowns as he walks slowly towards me, reversing the psychology I did with him earlier.
"Mad, crazy really, and I hate that you bring the worst side of me every time you piss me off, but I want to know you, because you understand me. You see me in ways no one really paid attention to me before. You bewitch me with your spell and I can't stop thinking about you. I am happy you punched Steeve, however wrong it is. It means you care and every time you go out of your way for me makes me fall harder for you. I love that you open up to me and not to anyone else. I love the depth of your soul that begs to be loved. I can hear it. So please let me in. Let me in, or let me go, because I don't want to screw my publishing deal with you. Give me a chance to show you the greatest things in life or tell me straight to my face that you don't want me." I look at him, catching my breath from my arguments.
I stare at him right in the eyes as he stops close to me.
"But I want you."
My heart skips a beat and my heart rushes the words to my mouth to hurry him to do something about it. I am desperate, I can't deny it. I want him too.
"Then get out of your fucking head and kiss me already." I let out and finally catch my last breath.
He doesn't wait a second and walks the few steps between us to cup both of my cheeks with a strength that makes us step back to hold me steady against the wall. He obliges and pressures his lips to mine hungrily. I have never felt something as magical as the fervour with which he kisses me with. Our lips find a rhythm that is consuming and delicate. It overtakes all my senses. It blinds my mind to sway in the dance he carries me in. The electricity between us is not charging our souls with lust, like it did when we kissed before, it is charging our souls with complete trust.
I get on the tip of my toes to have a better ease to circle his neck with both my arms. I pull him closer to me and I feel his hands finding their usual way under my shirt, arousing me like he always has. The warmth of his hands radiates through every of my nerves and rushes principally to my core. I feel his long fingers sneaking their way under the lace of my bra and his thumbs rub both of my nipples. He caresses them circularly as his lips kiss their way down my jaw to my neck. I moan of pleasure and it seems to excite him harder. His fervour doubles, slowly unleashing the beast inside him.
He takes handfuls of my breasts and pushes them together as his lips are sliding on my chest to my cleavage. I moan again, despite of myself wanting to take things slow and make him learn to be affectionate before being sexual, but he is making it very hard to resist him.
I run both of my hands through his locks, holding his head on the top of my breasts, even though I know it won't last. Just as quickly, my bra is unhooked and the lace loosens on my skin.
"Marcel..." I try to say, but it comes out more as a moan than anything else.
"I want you, Grace." He murmurs against my skin, turning me on, my sex burning in my jeans.
I want you too.
"We should take this slow..." I tell him as I know it's the right thing to do, even though he wants me to do the wrong thing right now.
"I want to show you how I feel, Grace." He murmurs so sweetly he makes it hard to resist because I want this as much as he does.
His voice is so sweet and pleading me, I can't resist him. I don't want to resist him. I want to know how he feels and it might be the only way to assure me he is feeling the same as me.
"OK, but we are doing this my way. We are starting fresh, just you and I." I demand and he stops kissing me to look into my eyes.
He nods, panting, and rushes his lips back on mine, trying to take off my shirt, but I sneak away from the kiss.
"Not here..." I take his hand and walk through the flat opening all the doors on my way until I find his room.
"The bedroom?"
"I am serious about you, Marcel. I want to do things properly..." I pull him in the room but I feel his hand slip out of mine, waiting outside of the door, looking at me with the same feeling he had earlier, seeming lost. "What is it?"
"I have never had sex in my bedroom before..." He admits slowly and I don't think too much of it.
"I will make love to you, Marcel." I correct him and get pleased that I am the first woman to share his bed.
I leave his eyes and walk to the side of his bed to turn on a small lamp so that I will see him. I get excited and nervous to have this kind of intimacy with him. I esteem him so much, I would never want to disappoint him. So I work up my courage to make things clear.
I walk to the end of the bed and face him. I look at him right into his gorgeous green eyes and take both of his hands in mine.
"I am not only offering you my body tonight, but my heart as well. I have never been so vulnerable with someone before and I am glad it's with you." I say to him, never gazing away from him as I bring his hands to my lips.
I kiss both of his palms slowly and put his hands on my cheeks. I slide them down on my neck, always getting lower making him feel every curve of my breasts to my hips.
"This is who I am and it's all yours."
He looks at me a long while, his expression being unreadable until his eyes follow the way down to his hands. They lift slowly my shirt, looking at me a second, waiting for me to stop him but I never do. I lift my arms to help him get me out of my clothes and, although I feel very insecure and nervous, he takes off now my bra exposing my bare chest and looks at me with the most gorgeous and confidence boosting spark in his eyes. He is being so different than earlier, very calm and soft. I take back both of his hands and slide them again on me until he takes charge.
I expected him to get his hands back on my breasts, but he surprises me by taking both of my hands and laying them in front of me. He caresses his way with both of his on my arms like we did in his hotel room. His touch is smoother and it brings chills all over my body. It makes me smile.
"That's what you do to me." I smile to him as I make him look at the hair lifting on my arms from the chills running through my body. My nipples are hardening to the cold and the pleasure he brings me.
He observes the reaction of my body from his touch and he looks mesmerised. It excites me even more.
"You are only touching my arms and you get that reaction out of my body. You ignite me. That is special. It is far from being a weakness. It's a strength to excite a woman just by touching her arms." I look at him as he doesn't give any attention to my body to only stare back into my eyes, slowly cupping my cheeks with his hands.
"Where have you been all my life?" He murmurs to me, his eyes glowing like I have never seen him.
"Lost. But now I'm here." I press my palm on his chest. I get surprised and shocked to feel the same heavy pounding of our hearts.
I look into his eyes with a growing love that is genuinely blooming inside of me. I am caught captive in all of his layers and I don't want to leave him for any reason right now. I get to see a side of him I have never seen before, that he might never had known he has. I never thought he could be any better than what I was used to. I think I have peeled all his layers and that, for once, he truly shows me his heart or, at least, a shadow of what he is capable of...
I slide my hands under his shirt and gently pull it up. I let it fall down next to us on the floor and put my hand back on his heart, never breaking the intensity of our gaze. I put both of my hands on his hips and caress his skin upwards, stepping closer to him. It's only then that I take a first look at his body.
At my height, I gaze first at his chest to find a birth mark the size of my small palm. It's right next to his heart. I run my fingers on it before I dive my lips to kiss it gently. His skin is so soft and smooth that I peck every inch I reach until our bare chests touch for the first time. His arms embrace me tighter to his chest as I reach to kiss his lips.
How can he make me feel that way? How can he make my heart pound like it's going to burst out of my chest, but make me feel so alive at the same time? I didn't even know one could ever feel that way...
My hands caress their way down to his trousers. I hook my fingers in and slide them to the front to unbutton them. I step back from the kiss to get him out of his clothes. I realise how good I have tamed him already to not be in such a rush anymore.
He lifts a foot up at the time as I kneel to get him out of his clothes and he looks down at me completely puzzled. I straighten myself, kissing my way from his thigh to his abdomen. I want him to start realising how he feels even if we are not having sex yet. I want him to get in sync with his feelings, to get out of his head.
I push him to sit on the bed and he already gets his hands on my jeans to get me out of them. He slides his hands on my thighs, inside both my knickers and my trousers to push them down. I get out of them and stand between his legs outside of the bed. I look at him and smile. He is so wonderfully gorgeous. I cup his cheeks and run my thumbs on his cheeks as he draws a smile, a smile like I have never seen before, it's genuinely glowing and bright, digging adorable dimples on his cheeks, which brings my heart on the edge of exploding.
"What are you thinking about?" I whisper as I circle his neck with my arms, wanting to drown him with affection.
"Just... how you can make everything beautiful... And how badly I want to kiss your body." He lets out, his eyes asking me, like he must have done in the past with his last girlfriend, but I will never be one to tell him no.
"You can do what you want with me, Marcel."
He doesn't even waste a second that his lips find my breasts, kissing, biting and sucking my sensible nipples like no one ever did before, and then he leaves a trail of kisses on my abdomen. He puts his hands on the lower part of my back to be pulling me closer to him, sliding his hands gently on my bum as he grabs my cheeks. I feel his tamed beast inside get free and wilder right in front of me. He takes one of my legs at the time and makes me straddle him. He gets a stronger hold of me by my waist and surprises me by flipping me over on the bed. My legs absentmindedly circle him ready to feel him and be one with him.
I have done this a countless amount of time, but with only two other person in my life. It somehow feels like this is all new to me with Marcel. I want to let go and I do, I trust him, more than I ever have with anyone.
He takes one of my legs at the time and kisses it from the inside of my thigh to my ankle before resting it on his shoulder. He does the same with the other and I ravish in all the ways I am shivering right now, it's near orgasmic and he hasn't directly touched me yet. He reaches out to his bedside table and he rolls on the condom with agility.
I won't deny it. This moment is magical, but inside I am a nervous wreck. It's normal to be. Marcel is being very attentive to me and I trust him to respect me. I really want this. One look into his green abyss and it's enough to reassure me. I feel confident. He looks at me as if to ask permission and I grant it with a nod.
Our bodies finally meet for the first time. It's delicate. It teases me with delight at first until he meets my wall, being too tight for him. It hurts at first, making me think I am maybe not wet enough, but once he starts sliding in slowly, I feel him deep. He thrusts back to charge fully inside of me. It gets me a pain and a discomfort I quickly forget as soon as I roll my hips to his rhythm, my body adjusting quickly to his size, as he thrusts into me again and the bliss I read on his face arouses me to enjoy this as much as he does. But with my ankles resting on his shoulders, it gets a distance between us that makes this experience not as intimate as I want it to be. So when he slides back, I open my legs wider to pull him closer to me. Our chests meet again and I take his mouth captive against mine. One of my hands slides to his bum to pressure him deeper, but I really don't have to. I have never felt such a bliss and such fulfilment before.
I am forced to stop kissing him to catch my breath. I pant, rolling my head back to fully enjoy him. Our skin feels sweaty in no time as my hips follow his rhythm, building my pleasure to a new peak. I grip his back with my nails and scratch him involuntarily as he bangs me higher and higher on the bed with the strength of his thrusts. Moans are coming out naturally louder than I was expecting and I can't stop them.
He is an animal, but one I want to tame. One that makes me want things I have never even dared to want before. My heart is getting carried away with every sinfully hard roll of his hips as I keep biting my lip to keep me quieter, but it doesn't really...
I have to put my arms over my head on the headboard to not hit it with each of Marcel's thrusts. I look at him and how carried away he gets too. He grabs the headboard with a hand, ramming into me like a possessed soul. I moan harder and louder despite of myself, but this is too good.
He was right. I really get to know how he feels. I am not only in euphoria physically, but I feel complete. I feel myself bounding with him. This is the hit I needed to realise just how madly in love I could fall for him, but it feels like I am making love to the enemy. It is so passionate that it can either be the greatest thing or it could ruin me. It will ruin me, but I guess it's a risk I am willing to take. I can't explain it, I just feel it. And, right now, it feels like I want to keep him on me, not only making love to me, but loving me altogether.
My sight gets lost on him and I ravish in his beauty, I want him to look at me.
I reach my hand to cup his cheek and caress it gently. He opens his eyes and his gaze meets mine. He has that drive and determination that makes me go crazy. It literally spreads like wildfire through all my body, hinting me how close I am to come.
"You are going to make me come, Mace."
The words come out before I can think and it has for effect to make him dive his lips on mine. His kiss is delightfully sloppy as his tongue deepens the passion to a boiling level between us. I suck a breath in, ready to feel it all. My toes dig deep in the mattress, my back arches under the violence of the high coming inside of me. I rush my hands on his face to hold him there as the wave of bliss makes me come and I explode quite literally in his arms. All of my moans echo through his mouth as I pant too hard, catching my breath, to return his kiss.
It doesn't take long to hear him growl as well. His thrusts are becoming shallow and desperate as he grunts against my ear the most delectable low and loud orgasm I have ever procured a man. He thrusts a few last times as his erection pulsates inside of me.
He has barely stopped ejaculating that he starts to pull out, but I stop him and pull him tight on my chest.
"Stay... It feels good." I ask him silently.
He looks at me a second and falls back on me. I embrace his body closer to mine, feeling how we unite together. I run a hand through his sweaty hair, away from his burning forehead. I peck the length of his shoulder before my lips slide on his neck and stop to just take in this moment of pure bliss we are both in and how good I feel with his weight on me. My whole body spasms under him like I never have before. I rest my head against his and keep playing in his hair to make him let go completely into my arms.
"What are you thinking about?" I whisper, my breath caressing his skin softly before my lips do too and I kiss him.
"So many things..." He only responds and pulls out to fall next to me. He takes off the condom and throws it in the bin by his bedside table.
"Care to let me in on some of them?" I smile to him and gather a pillow to rest comfortably next to him to gaze at every of his reactions as I can still feel his presence inside me even in his current absence.
"I can't believe how curious you are..." He lets out and finally turns on his side to mirror me.
"I got promised all my questions answered, remember?" I smirk and get pleased at the grin on his face and the adorable dimples I don't see enough of.
"Did I really?!" He seems to joke and I slide closer to him to gently press my lips on his. I break the kiss and nod, taking advantage of our proximity to caress the skin of his abdomen as he talks. "I was thinking how good you feel and how great this was..." I can't help but to smile at him and feel proud. But he surprises me by being even more honest. "And... I was thinking about how lost I would have been if you wouldn't have agreed to publish your book with me."
It makes me smile wider with every ounce of me that is sparkling with the feelings I am developing for him. I am so glad I opened up and told him how I feel, because even if he isn't really telling me, I felt more depth with him than I do with Ash. It's fun, but, with Marcel, it moved my soul. It's corny and cheesy and intense, but he really did and there's no better way to explain it.
"I think you wouldn't have wasted your time as much." I joke and I really think I'm funny, but it results by him rolling off the bed and getting up.
I panic as we so soon seem to find a roadblock to our 'relationship' whatever he might want to call it. What have I done? He walks through the room to the door, revealing his bare back and an unexpected big tattoo. Wings. Angel wings folded and dark. It's beautiful and it brings so many questions. The first being, why is he walking away?
"What is it, Marcel? Come back and talk to me." I get out of bed and pick his shirt up to put it on quickly as I follow him out of the room.
I get to him and grab his hand to make him stop, but that stubborn fuck doesn't oblige. So, I take a strong hold of him and push him, his back against the wall, clearly surprising him.
"You will need to stop that!" I shout at him as he makes me angry at anything, just being the way he is.
"Stop what, Grace!?" He retorts with arrogance. He doesn't even realise that we don't leave bed at the beginning of pillow talk or ignore the other when it pleases.
"Being all in your fucking head! You are happy, you tell me. You are mad, you tell me. You want something, you tell me. I am here for you, but you need to let me in on your thoughts. Did I do anything to offend you? You need to tell me and I won't do it again. Just... Talk to me."
"This is all so strange!" He lets out, clearly not used to this kind of relationship and it makes me stop being like the teacher and the misbehaving student. It's not my role and it isn't what he is, and I feel sorry. I am being understanding.
"It isn't strange at all, it's communication. It will come in handy, I tell you, so better get used to it now." I try to joke again to lighten the mood and it seems to work. "Now... why did you walk away from me?"
"I am not used to cuddling, even less after sex. If we did it my way, I would be calling your taxi right now, I would even pay for it. But I don't want you to go... and I don't know what to do... And there you say we are wasting our time!? I think we have been very productive in a month of work, in which we have only truly worked on weekends and dealt with our personal lives in the meantime. I will take the relationship criticism from you but not on my work." He bursts out at me, which makes me release him from the wall. He stays there and I feel badly how sorry I am.
"I am sorry, Marcel. It was a joke and I really didn't mean to offend your work." I genuinely say to him and sneak against his chest to hug him. "Why did you get so defensive about your work? You know I admire you and I wouldn't judge anything you do..."
He sighs very deeply and gets away from my embrace yet again, but it doesn't seem from anger this time. He walks to the living room and takes a cookie from the plate still laying on the table. I join his side and keep a fair distance to make him more comfortable. He takes a bite and sighs deeply. His sight finds me then and I am all ears.
"No matter how hard I work or how many degrees I get, people at work only see my last name and think I get everything on a silver plate. The truth is that I've fucking earned my place more than any of those bastards. I seem to have more to prove because of that and I hate it. So if you too question me, I am alone in this. I also don't want you to think that I am wasting your talent as I am so inexperienced with publishing. It's always Mum that publishes the stories I love. I finally got to replace her only because she had an elbow surgery and I knew your book like the back of my hand."
I look at him right in the eyes, I love when he opens up. It makes me feel so special and his words truly make me happier than even that. I smile tenderly to him and get on my knees on the couch to climb my way on his lap. I sit on his thighs and run both of my hands through his hair to free his gorgeous face.
"I wouldn't want to work on my story with anyone else. That's why I changed the contract. You are finally an editor, Mace."
"I can't believe you did that. I truly can't."
"I don't think your Mum loves me very much though. She might have taken personal how against I was of working with her."
"If there's a problem, I'll deal with her. Don't you worry." He grins at me and gazes into my eyes without any further words.
"I don't... I trust you." I return his smile and sigh quickly. "I am so happy you called back. I wouldn't imagine what life would be like without you..." I cheesily say and dive my lips on his.
I kiss him with all I have, pressing my upper body on him, rolling slightly my hips against his exposed groin as he is still gloriously naked. He is sending me my passion right back as he kisses me like I have never been before. He is truly a wonderful kisser. And it gets even better when his tongue dances against mine.
I am happy I had Ash, because he prepared me to be confident enough to be truly myself with Marcel. But these men are so different that, at the end of the day, it doesn't even compare. I feel for Marcel four times what Ash makes me feel, if I can picture it that way... And maybe ten times what Steeve made me feel when our relationship was good, which was like our first year together and slight moments of luck here and there. With Ash, it's an infatuation as pure and simple as it is, but with Marcel... it's so much more than that.
I stop and step back from our kiss to question him with my eyes. I look at him with an amused smirk on my lips. I look at his arms, lying awkwardly by his sides.
"What are you doing with your arms?" I ask him and it makes him frown and take this comment very literally.
"Nothing."
"Exactly. It makes me feel like you don't want me..." I pout slightly to not cross the immaturity line that I'm sure would turn him off.
"It would be weird to rub my cookie all over you, wouldn't it?" He smiles at me as he takes a strong hold of my body and leans to put it back on the plate. He then slides back where he was. "Happy, now?"
He looks up at me still comfortably straddling his lap with both of my arms around his neck. I pout again and lean my head to the side, thinking. Am I happy now? I take both of his hands in mine and slide them on my bum under the shirt. I let them there and he instantly pulls me closer to him, grabbing me tightly. There's a smirk glowing on his face and it truly makes me happy.
"I am." I smile and peck his lips tenderly, before stepping back to look at him. "Are you?"
I get very surprised to see him pout as well and looking at my chest before setting back his eyes into mine. I feel his hand slide up on my body, following slowly the curves of my body to take off his shirt I had put on.
Somehow, I feel more insecure than I did before. My heart beats louder in my chest as he looks down at me, his eyes swaying on every detail of my skin until they meet mine.
"I am."
He smiles at me so beautifully, it's like Marcel from work and the man in front of me are two. I can't wait to get to know him better. It makes me think...
"Do you think I could take you on a date tomorrow?"
My question surprises us both, but I am glad I asked.
"What time?" He asks me very formally and his lack of immediate approval or laughter disappoints me a bit. It makes me sad. "Because I need to work on my thesis..."
"Oh... How is it going?"
"Good. I'm nearly done. My professor sent me back his reviews and I need to do my last corrections, I've worked on it all week, I must send my final version in a few days."
"Wow, that's quick. After that you'll be done? I can't believe how fast a month has gone."
"I am glad this thesis is over and done with."
"Why? You've got a pretty good subject."
"I know and I firmly believe it, but since last week with you I am starting to understand the other perspectives."
"How so?"
"I find myself wanting to please you.... So I am beginning to be more sensible of expectations, yours and the society's, on that matter. Which I wasn't before."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"It isn't really, but I don't want to label us or do things because I am expected to because of our relationship."
"And what is our relationship?"
"That's exactly it, I don't want to label it." He firmly believes his words and it concludes the subject.
"OK..." I lower my sight and sigh, not knowing what else to say when his mind is clearly made.
"Don't take this the wrong way... I have never felt like this before, I don't want to be pressured to anything. This happened so naturally and unexpectedly..." He says in an attempt to reassure me. And it does.
"I understand and respect that."
"Thank you."
"But there are things, I would rather like for you to understand." I let out with confidence. He told me his rules, it's time I tell him mine.
"OK..."
"You can touch me as you please, it's even preferable for you to, because I just want you to." I tell him bluntly and he smirks terribly wide.
"No problem with that."
"But I just want you to talk to me, tell me when things are on your mind." I sigh and slide my hands down to his chest, realising how terribly naked we both are. It makes me quite uncomfortable, only because of my insecurities.
"I'll try to remember that..." He says and smiles gently at me as I look at his birthmark, caressing my fingers on it, before he takes my wrists and to push them away. "Don't..."
I frown deeply and look at him react. I am glad I am straddling him, because I know that way he won't run away instead of talking to me.
"What's wrong?"
"Why are you touching it?" He lets out and I keep frowning, not understanding what is going on at all.
"It's your skin, I was just being affectionate. I like it, this mark is unique."
"It's fucking disgusting." He lashes out and it makes me sad to see him that way.
"It isn't. Why would you think that?" I force him to look at me, sliding my fingers under his chin, but when his stare finds mine, it's cold and he is back with his walls up. I keep my sight deep into his. After a moment, he sighs and his walls tumble down before my eyes.
"Remember when you told me I was a bully?" I nod and feel instantly sorry. "Remember when you told me I had ice inside of my soul, because you said I was cold?" I frown, I don't remember that, but I know I must have, because he looks really hurt more than cold right now. I don't move a muscle, I just look at him. "Well, you are not the first... I used to be very bullied at school. I was the awkward kid with the big glasses that preferred to hide from reality in his books, because life was shit to me. I was being picked on all the time, nobody wanted to be my friend. We shared the locker room to get changed for PE classes and when they all saw that, they started to say that I was the child of Satan, that my heart was so dark that it had stained my skin. That even him didn't want me. It's stupid really, but everyone at school was either bullying me or was scared of me. Sometimes, it gets so often reminded to you that you have no choice but to start believing everything that is said about you."
"Don't."
The word comes out of my mouth quicker than I can think. I don't want him to feel like that. It's disgusting that he had to suffer like that. How to ruin the innocence of a child... I can't believe it. Child of Satan?! Nonsense. He is such a wonderful being.
I get off him and stand in front of him. I offer him my hands to make him get up as well. It takes a long moment until he understands and does. I look down at the mark and question his eyes a moment before I take a closer look at his chest. His abdomen is a lot more muscular than I would have thought. It's slightly defined, not that I care, but it feels nice to the touch. I caress my fingers upwards to his chest where I find his hard nipples in the same dark shade as his birthmark. It's darker than it would usually be, because it contrasts so much his clear pearly skin, but it's so not important.
I lean forward and press my lips on it. His skin is warm and as soft as it is everywhere else. I kiss it repeatedly and end with a longing kiss before I slide my lips on his chest to his neck. I get surprised by his arms embracing me. He hugs me. Tightly, I might say and I get lost in the moment. He holds me like I have written about in my book, but never really had been. He holds me in a way that makes me feel how he feels, safe, grateful, loved in a way, respected,... It tells me that he doesn't need sex to show me. It's a deep connection that lasts a few seconds, but it's charged with intensity and trust.
On so many levels I understand what he means. Even though we have two different stories, we share those insecurities that have shaped us into the beings we are today, haunted, but strong. We are two victims that have decided to take our fate into our own hands instead of letting it destroy our spirits.
I step away and smile gently to him. I pick up his shirt on the couch and put it back on as I take his half eaten cookie in the plate to eat it. I want to look at his home. I head to his shelves full of books and run my finger on the back, reading the titles. I stop and smile wider when I read the book he had with him in Manchester.
"Did you like it?" I ask and turn to look at him as he puts his briefs, coming out of his bedroom.
"What?" He frowns and joins my side.
"Childe Harold." I look up at him and circle his waist to get closer to him.
"I did, but you were right. The first two were better." He states and looks at the books, trying to find one. "Have you read Les Misérables by Victor Hugo?"
"Of course I did. It might be my favourite book." I ignite of joy. I got scared I wouldn't know the book he would be talking to me about, as I do with more than half of the titles in front of me.
"Thank God. I did my Master on it. I had the chance to travel to Paris to study the archives for a month." He gets all excited as he takes one of his numerous copies to reveal all the notes and the Post-It I am used to see everywhere through my book.
"What angle did you write it on?"
"In French, it's called a 'sociocritique'. Are you familiar with that?"
"I am. I had many literature classes through College. I did a short one on Frankenstein."
"So I studied the socio cultural elements in the story and compartmentalised to analyse the 'imaginaire social', a theory by Professor Pierre Popovic from the University of Montreal, through the story. It's very fascinating. I got to analyse Hugo's intention of talking about a utopian dystopia governed by social classes, hierarchy, but by giving a voice to the poor. I am sorry I keep on saying terms in French..."
"Did you write it in French?"
"I did. All my research was in French, I didn't really have a choice." He smiles to me, putting back the book next to the others on the shelves.
"You are incredible. Say something to me." I get all excited and ask him as I take him in my arms. He smiles and looks down, thinking about it.
"Mmh... Tu es la plus splendide créature que j'ai rencontré dans ma vie." He murmurs to me and it makes me smirk wide.
"What did you just say?"
"I said that we should get to bed."
"Did you really?"
"Yes."
I smile to him and make my way back to the bedroom. I grin wider as soon as he doesn't see me. He is making my heart go crazy. I never would have thought how wonderful this man is the first time I met him. He makes me happy and I feel like tonight is just the beginning of something great.
If he only knew I speak French as well...
You are the most wonderful creature I have met in my life.
.
Merry Christmas, my lovely readers. May this new year bring you wonderful new experiences and joy, but mostly love. I love you all very much. -xx-