Fall From India Place

by Samantha Young

  It sparked, the tension inside of me exploding, an orgasm unlike any I’d ever had before flowing through me. I think my eyes even rolled back in my head as I cried out to God.

  I shuddered against Marco, opening my eyes to watch as he stiffened, his neck arched, his teeth gritted, and his eyes fierce as his own climax rolled through him.

  He jerked against me, his hold on me almost painful as he came. He collapsed on me. His body still shuddered as he buried his head in my neck.

  My muscles were warm and languid and for a few glorious seconds I just lay there enjoying the aftermath of the most amazing orgasm I’d ever experienced, and exulting at the feel of Marco’s warm, hard body covering mine.

  Those seconds quickly passed, however.

  When he raised his head, his features relaxed, and his eyes filled with affection, a dark, heavy feeling began to sneak into my gut. He kissed me softly and I kissed him back, but…

  He pulled gently out of me and rolled off me. The feeling in my gut grew bigger as he got out of bed. My eyes took in his long, muscled back, zeroing in on a line of raised skin on the left side of his lower back. A scar.

  A new feeling of unease met the one that was already growing inside me. I watched as his magnificent body, bite-worthy arse and all, crossed the room and disappeared into the hall.

  A few seconds later he returned, completely at ease with his nakedness. Wishing I could believe in the softness in his eyes as he looked at me, I watched on, a little perplexed, as he crawled back into bed with me. And then he pressed a wet washcloth between my legs.

  Surprised by the sweet gesture, I bit my lip to keep myself from saying anything as he took care of me. Afterward he disappeared for a few seconds again, returning to draw down the covers that were under me so he could put them over me. He slipped into bed, lying on his back, and his arm came around me. Without saying a word he pulled me into his side and I rested my head on his chest, my heart racing again.

  “I don’t know if this changes anything.”

  Marco replied on a huff of laughter, “Of course it does.”

  For some reason I wanted to cry. I didn’t understand myself at all. “I should be lying here feeling happy, but… I’m not.”

  The air in the room grew chilled. Marco sat up, turning so he could look me in the eye. I could tell by the hardening of his jaw that he was more than a little pissed off by my reaction to us having sex. “What the hell does that mean?”

  I went for honesty. Well… sort of. “I have this sinking feeling about us.” I looked away. “I haven’t told you everything, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

  I felt the press of his fingers against my chin and he slowly turned my head so I had to meet his blazing gaze. “You will, eventually,” he said with a certainty I just couldn’t feel. “I haven’t told you everything either, but we’ll get there. And that feeling… I’ll make that go away. I’ll make that go away by proving to you that I’m not going away. I’m here, Hannah. And I want to be here.”

  I wanted to argue further, I wanted to run far away before everything between us imploded and left me devastated. But when he kissed me, pushing me back against the pillows, determined to make love to me all over again, I understood that there was a much bigger part of me that had nothing to do with my brain and everything to do with my emotions, and it wanted this here with him even more.

  The staff room was emptying out with only five minutes to go until lunch was over. I’d just walked to the sink to rinse my mug, still in a daze (and exhausted) from last night’s sexathon with Marco, when Nish hurried over to my side.

  She ignored my questioning gaze to look over her shoulder. As soon as the last teacher walked out of the staff room she turned back to me, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement. “I heard things are going well with you and Marco.”

  Annoyance made my pulse speed up. “And where did you hear that?”

  Nish shrugged, looking weirdly smug, almost triumphant. “Well, Marco sent me a text this morning and all it said was ‘Thank you.’ Seeing the dark circles under your eyes, the flush in your cheeks, and putting it together with the cryptic text message, I can only conclude you two had sex.”

  Great. “Are you an English teacher or a private detective?” I grumbled.

  Nish laughed. “I don’t know what that grumpiness is for. If I was getting some from Marco D’Alessandro I’d die a happy woman.”

  “You’re a married woman,” I reminded her, throwing my sandwich packet in the bin as I headed toward the door.

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a gorgeous specimen like Marco.”

  I was admittedly confused over whether or not giving in to Marco the night before had been the right thing to do, but I had definitely enjoyed everything about his body. I shivered just remembering it.

  “So.” Nish reached past me, putting her hand on the staff room door so I couldn’t escape. “Andy says he’s known Marco for a few years now and he’s never chased after a woman before.” Nish grinned at me. “He’s usually a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy.”

  I stared back at her impatiently. “Was that a question?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  Sighing, I pulled at the door so she had to move back to let me out. “We have history.”

  “I’m getting that. What I want to know is, is it serious? Will I be hearing wedding bells soon?”

  My shoulders hunched at the absurd question. “I’m not even sure if we’re together, Nish. Marco’s never been one for permanence.”

  Cole was in his kitchen, grabbing me a glass of soda and some snacks, and I was just relaxing when my phone vibrated. I pulled it out of my purse, that unease back in my stomach when I saw it was Marco.

  He’d called me five times and I’d ignored every single one. I’d also ignored the text message he’d sent. Instead of going home, where I was sure he’d only ambush me and force me to work out my feelings before I was ready, I’d gotten the bus to Cole’s flat on Leith Walk. It was a small place that he shared with a roommate. The furniture was worn and in need of replacement, the walls were yellow-stained, and it was perpetually cold because the old sash-and-case windows needed replacing

  Shoving my phone back in my purse, I looked up as Cole returned to the sitting room. “Do you miss living with Cam and Jo?” I asked, gratefully taking the food and drink he offered me.

  Cole shot me an “are you serious?” look. “I like the privacy. For all of us. Cam can’t keep his hands off my sister, as evident by that huge bump she’s carrying around these days, and that’s just something I’m glad I don’t have to walk in on anymore.”

  I chuckled, glancing around the room. My gaze stuck on a plaque that hung above the old fireplace. On the plaque was a singing fish. “Still, your flatmate has the dodgiest taste.”

  “Bigsie is dodgy, full stop.” Cole stared grimly at the fish. “Luckily I don’t see much of him.”

  “Yeah, where is he?”

  “Fuck knows. He pays the rent on time, that’s all that matters.”

  “You could ask him to take the fish down.”

  “The fish?” Cole snorted. “I take it you haven’t seen the blow-up doll in my bathroom?”

  I burst out laughing. “No way.”

  Cole closed his eyes as if he was in pain and nodded.

  Giggling, I put my Coke down and scampered out of the sitting room and down the hall into the pokey wee bathroom at the back of the flat. As soon as I opened the door I was confronted by a life-size blow-up doll. She was sporting a cartoon face and a majestic bosom, and someone had covered her lower half with a hula skirt.

  “Her name is Lola!” Cole called.

  Laughing, I took a photo of it on my camera phone and then strode back to the sitting room.

  Cole rolled his eyes at my expression. “It’s funny for you. You don’t have to live with it. I’d seriously consider deflating her if I wasn’t worried about Bigsie’s retaliation.”

  I giggl
ed harder.

  “Come on.” Cole huffed. “Where’s the sympathy? How am I supposed to explain that to a woman if I bring her back here?”

  I shrugged. “You have a weird flatmate.”

  “Nah, if we’re being serious here they’ll be out the door before I even get the chance to explain. Would you not be if you saw that in some guy’s bathroom?”

  I sniggered. “Oh, God, yeah.”

  “Fucking great,” Cole muttered into his coffee.

  My phone vibrated again and I studiously ignored it, reaching for my Coke.

  “Are you not going to answer that?”

  I shook my head.

  “Okay.” Cole eyed me carefully. “We’ve barely hung out in weeks, which is fine because you seem to be making progress with Marco. But now you’re here, after work, avoiding phone calls. What’s up with that? Is it him?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  I felt Cole’s scrutiny intensify. He sighed, putting his mug down on the chipped coffee table. “You slept with him.”

  My lips parted at his perceptive deduction. “Annoying.”

  “So you slept with him. It was that bad you’re ignoring him… like the mature adult you are?”

  “It wasn’t bad,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks blaze at just the memory of it.

  “Ach, I don’t want to hear that.” Cole’s face scrunched up like he’d just popped a sour apple candy into his mouth.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  He waved his hand. “Forget the details. Why are you avoiding him?”

  “I’m just trying to figure things out.”

  “And what is there to figure out? I thought you were giving him a second chance?”

  “Am I?” My brows drew together.

  Cole smiled kindly. “Hannah, you let him back in.”

  I nodded, knowing that was true and that, yes, I was preparing myself to give him a second chance but… “I just have this feeling. I can’t get past it. It’s this feeling in my gut that this time I’m going to get crushed to the point I can’t get back up again.”

  My friend exhaled heavily. “You want to know what I think?”

  “Always.”

  “I think that feeling in your gut… that’s just the past talking.”

  I should have expected it. But I didn’t.

  I’d spent the last five weeks watching him infiltrate my life, pursuing me, spending time with me. Yet somehow I still couldn’t get Marco the boy out of my head, and Marco the boy would have broodingly shrugged off my avoidance of the past day and waited for me to come to him.

  To my ever-increasing confusion, relief flowed through me to see him sitting on the steps at the front entrance to my building as I returned from Cole’s. He was wearing a warm jacket, but it was freezing outside and he didn’t have a hat on or a scarf. Guilt immediately needled me.

  Cole was right. Avoiding Marco today had been immature. And here he was waiting on me in this bloody Baltic weather.

  Was he telling the truth? Was he really not going anywhere?

  “I’m buying you a scarf.” I sighed, coming to a stop in front of him.

  He lifted his head, his hands dangling between his knees, and my muscles locked at the expression on his face.

  “Pissed off” didn’t even cover it.

  I waited for him to say something, to yell, to question my childish behavior, but instead he stood up and turned his back on me. My mouth dropped open with more confusion, and I watched as he took the last few steps up the front stoop and waited.

  Realizing that he was waiting for me to let him in, I hurried up the steps and passed him, my hands shaking a little as I unlocked the door.

  I felt his intimidating presence behind me as I attempted not to rush up the stairs to my flat as if a debt collector was on my heels. He got so close to me when I was inserting the key into my lock that his chest brushed against my back.

  The butterflies had returned to my stomach with a vengeance by the time I got the door unlocked. As soon as the lock clicked, Marco reached over my head, one hand shoving against the door to throw it open. I was unceremoniously shuffled inside, and sensing the anger practically pouring from him, I scooted out of his grasp and strode into the sitting room to get some distance. I began jerkily unbuttoning my coat.

  “So this morning” – his fucked-off tone made me stiffen as I slipped my coat off – “when I kissed you good-bye before I left to get ready for work, that sweet you gave me… it was bullshit?”

  He was referring to the fact that I’d pulled him back for a deeper kiss, reluctant to let him go. The thing was, when he was right there in front of me, the unease I felt was harder to hold on to. By the time he was gone and I was getting ready for work, I’d let that unease win.

  I turned to face him. The fact that he was shrugging out of his own jacket suggested to me he was angry but he wasn’t angry enough to leave. Why the hell did I feel so relieved again?

  “I’m just confused,” I answered honestly.

  “That’s your answer?” He threw his jacket on my armchair and prowled toward me. “I’ve had the worst fucking day and that’s your answer?”

  Unwilling to be intimidated when I was just trying to be truthful, I refused to back up, even when he stopped so close I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. “It’s the truth,” I snapped.

  “So you’re confused. That gives you the right to treat me like shit?”

  The guilt was back. “No.” Without even thinking, I brushed my fingertips over his chest, a gesture of reassurance. “I’m sorry for today. It wasn’t fair. I’m just… confused.”

  For a moment I wasn’t sure how he was going to react.

  Then slowly the tension seemed to ease from him despite the hardness that remained in his eyes. “I don’t ever want a repeat of today. We got problems, we talk. You don’t leave me standing out in the cold like a fucking idiot.”

  Feeling like one of my scolded schoolchildren, I crossed my arms over my chest and answered somewhat petulantly, “Were you always this bossy?”

  A dangerous glint entered his eyes. “Oh, babe, you haven’t seen bossy.”

  I let out a gasp of surprise as he pushed me against the arm of the sofa so I had no choice but to sit on it, and shoved my skirt up to my waist in one rapid, smooth movement.

  I clung to the sofa, feeling a heady mixture of apprehension and excitement as he roughly yanked my underwear down my legs. He pushed in between my legs, gripping my nape with one hand and tugging at his zipper with the other.

  His kiss was hard, desperate, and that plus the torturous press of his throbbing cock against my sex was too much. He rubbed against me, stole me out of myself with his erotic kisses, and teased me until my skin was inflamed.

  By the time my mouth was swollen from his kisses, I felt his fingers slip inside me, testing my readiness. He practically growled in satisfaction before he removed his fingers and thrust his cock inside me.

  I cried out in pleasured pain, holding on to Marco for dear life as he gripped my hips and fucked me on the arm of my couch. It wasn’t like before. It wasn’t slow and deep and driven by longing. This was driven by frustration, confusion, desperation, and lust. It was ragged. It was intense. And I was so hot for him I came fast and I came hard.

  Coming down from my climax, I felt my inner muscles spasm as Marco growled, “Fuck, Hannah. Fuck, feels so good,” before groaning as he came inside me.

  Panting for breath, feeling somewhat bewildered by how different and yet exciting that had been, I waited for Marco to make the next move.

  His next move was to kiss me slowly, sweetly, and pull back to ask in belated concern, “You okay? I wasn’t —”

  I covered his mouth with my hand, smirking in satisfaction. “I might have to piss you off more often.”

  He rewarded my humor with a wicked grin. “My baby likes it hard.”

  “I like you,” I whispered, feeling that ache in my chest expand.

  He
brushed his knuckles along my jaw, tenderness burning in his eyes now. “Does that mean you’re going to give this a real shot? No more avoiding us?”

  I thought about him sitting out on my front stoop in the winter cold.

  “Yes.” I slid my arms around his neck, pulling him close. “This is me officially giving us a shot.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Y

  ears ago, when I was attempting to understand the rings Joss made Braden jump through before finally admitting they were meant for each other, Joss had told me that she had been so happy for the first time in so long that it paralyzed her with fear.