I hear the crinkle of the condom packet as she removes the rubber and positions it over my tip. My cock jumps. I can’t wait to get inside her and the sensation of her rolling it down my shaft is pure torture.
The moment it’s secured, I grip her shoulders and push her back on the bed, dropping my pants and boxers on the ground before climbing on top of her. Her legs lay open, inviting me into her centre and I position myself at her opening, leaning down to brush my lips against hers and take her mouth in mine as I push myself inside her. She wraps her legs around me as we move together, slowly - sensuously.
This isn’t what I normally do. This isn’t fucking. This is making… love. There, I admitted it - for the first time in my life, I, Marcus Bailey, am making love to a woman and it’s fucking transcendent.
Lisa
As we move together, there is this beautiful silence between us. It’s as if we are both so caught up in the emotion that we can’t speak. Nothing more than primal noises escapes from our throats as we both move toward climax.
There is no space between our bodies. We’re joined by mouth and core, then pressed intensely together everywhere in between. Drawing each other in. Drinking from our life force. It feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced and I fear, that when we part, neither of us will ourselves. We’ll simply be one half of this whole.
The pressure inside me continues to build as he drives himself inside me, filling my core. I hold him so firmly against me that my clit is rubbing against his pelvis, sending glorious tendrils of arousal through my body as he rocks between my thighs.
Suddenly, the build up threatens to explode, and I drop my head back and let out a long, loud moan as my hips buck against him. Dropping his head into the crook of my neck, he lets out a guttural moan as he pulses inside me.
We continue to move slowly, helping each other come down from that glorious high before we collapse in each other’s arms, neither of us willing to let go.
Feeling drunk on emotion, we keep kissing and touching, our bodies already greedy for another round. That is, until Marcus’s phone starts to ring.
“Ignore it,” I whisper, rolling my hips against his. He’s still inside me, and still hard. “Let’s just have one day of perfect before we let the world back in.”
“That sounds perfect,” he murmurs, gripping my hips and rolling to his back so I’m now straddling him.
His hands cup my breasts as I rock against him, pressing up through my thighs, and squeezing at him internally as I lift myself up his length then drop myself down, deepening our connection beyond the point of full.
“Shit,” he hisses when his house phone begins to ring.
“Ignore it. They’ll call back,” I pant, trying to keep my focus while the world screams at us electronically.
He grips my hips and stops my movement. “Babe, I’m sorry. That’s not the phone, that’s the intercom. Someone’s here.”
“Seriously? It’s like…” I look at the digital read out on Marcus’s bedside clock, “eight-thirty on a Saturday morning. What the hell are they doing here?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t supposed to be working today. Just…” he rolls me so I’m laying on the bed beside him and kisses me. “Hold that thought. I’ll get rid of them and we can switch everything off and just spend the day together. Ok?”
“Sure,” I say, disappointed. I’ve been through this kind of thing before. There’s no way we’re going to get a day to ourselves. We will be harassed constantly until one of us emerges for an interview. The press is relentless.
Pulling the sheets around me, I feel tears prick behind my eyes as the realisation of what my life will be like hits me like a lead balloon. I don’t think I can do this.
Chapter 13
Marcus
“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but you have some visitors. They’re claiming to be your family,” Serge, the attendant at the building’s security desk informs me.
“Can you put them on please?” I ask, wondering if it really is my family or someone from the press trying to trick the poor guy into losing his job.
“Hey, it’s me and Naomi. We thought we’d bring you some food since the mob out here isn’t thinning out any time soon. If you don’t want to face them, you’re in there for a long haul.”
“Thanks man. Pass the phone back to Serge and I’ll get him to let you up.”
I tell Serge to let them up and put them on the list of people who are allowed to visit whenever they want. Once the instructions have been given, I hang up the phone and rub my hand over my short blond hair. It’s grown a lot in the last six weeks. I’m beginning to look like I did when I was in Matiari.
I head back toward the bedroom, not liking the knowledge that the press are still waiting outside for us. It’s exactly what Lisa didn’t want when I started insinuating myself into her life, and now here we are. Exactly where I wanted us to be, but the cost is putting her exactly where she didn’t want to be.
God, how the hell and I going to fix this?
“What’s going on?” Lisa asks from the doorway of my room. She’s wrapped in the sheet from my bed and looks absolutely divine in my eyes. I want to tell her that nothing is wrong and take her back to bed forever because I don’t think I’ll ever have my fill of her soft curves.
I turn to her, hands on hips. I’m still naked, but it’s just her and me, so I’m not too shy right now. “We need to get dressed. Theo and Naomi are on their way up with some food for us. They say there’s a bit of a mob downstairs still…”
My heart aches for her as I watch her mouth open and her eyes blink rapidly to force her tears back. She clears her throat and swallows. “Well, that’s to be expected I suppose. I can’t say I’m surprised.”
She turns from the doorway and walks around the bed, picking up her clothes and holding them in a ball in front of her.
I can tell by her demeanour that she’s freaking out right now. “Lisa. It will be ok. We can stay here. We can wait it out.”
She stops just before she enters the bathroom and turns to me. “I am Leisil Marx. I’m not Lisa Russell. She was just a dream I got to live for a while. This won’t end until they’ve ruined us both. Do you understand that? It’s what they do. They hate me, and they’ll hate you for being associated with me.” Her voice cracks with emotion and I move toward her. But I’m not fast enough before she shuts herself in the bathroom and locks the door.
“Leis,” I call through the door, needing to say something to her that will make her understand that I don’t care about what they think. The only person that matters to me right now is her.
“Just leave me alone, Marcus,” she calls through the door. I open my mouth to argue back, but the doorbell goes off, signalling that Theo and Naomi have made it up here.
“Shit,” I hiss, now feeling like their timing couldn’t be any worse.
I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, then head to the door and open it up. Naomi holds up a large brown bakery bag and a tray of coffees. “Breakfast?” She’s grinning that grin of hers that lights up a room and it immediately makes me feel better.
Theo stands beside her, holding bags of groceries. He isn’t as dark and broody as he has been for most of his life. I think Naomi’s lightness has rubbed off on his dark. “Hey man,” he nods.
“Hey, thanks guys. This is a great surprise,” I tell them, trying to keep the worry out of my voice as I glance over my shoulder toward the bedroom.
“I hope this is ok,” Naomi says, as she sets things on the kitchen bench top. “We don’t want to intrude, but we saw the news this morning and thought you could use the help.”
“No. It’s fine, honestly.”
“Where’s Leisel?” Theo asks as he does the same with the bags of groceries.
“She’s taking a shower,” I tell them, not really sure what she’s doing. For all I know she’s tying sheets together and trying to escape out the bathroom window.
“Well, I look forward to meeting he
r properly when she comes out,” Naomi says. “I can’t wait to chat to the girl who’s actually made Marcus Bailey weak at the knees. She must really be something,” she smiles, talking to me like we haven’t spent the last two years ignoring each other.
“She is something,” I say in reply, once again glancing over my shoulder and hoping she’s ok.
Lisa
God, here I am, crying again. I don’t think I’ve cried since the last time the press decided to rip me a new arsehole. Why is it that so much emphasis has to be placed on the famous? Why can’t I just fall for whomever I choose and not have to worry about eyes looking over my shoulder?
Splashing my face with cool water, I pat it dry with a cream coloured hand towel and try to calm down.
Looking into the mirror, I stare into my honey coloured eyes and try to work through my thoughts as I take in my tired appearance.
It’s time for me to be very reasonable and tell myself the hard truths that my hope won’t want to hear. Marcus Bailey is a rock star. He has probably slept with more women than I myself have met in my entire life (and I went to an all girls school). He is used to always getting what he wants and out of all the scenarios there are, it is most likely that he is only infatuated with me because I said no to him multiple times.
If I were a bookie, I would be taking bets on how long it would take for Marcus to get sick of me and go back to his old ways. And if I were a gambler, I would bet that it would be the moment he went back on tour.
Now, here are my choices. I stay with Marcus, knowing that things will end badly, but stupidly hoping in some sort of fairy tale ending OR, I can go out there, be honest with Marcus, and go home so I can start my life again.
As hard as it will be, I know that the latter is the best choice for me. Marcus has everything to lose if he stays with me. Being associated with me will turn his fans against him and severely affect his career prospects. If I go, the media attention will only help him. And I, well, I have everything to lose as well.
I spent my life in the public eye. First, as Jimmy Marx’s daughter, then as Jonathan Masters’ girlfriend and finally as a psycho, revenge seeking, bitch whom everyone loved to hate. I don’t want that life again – no matter how much I lo…like Marcus. I can’t turn my life into a circus.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I walk around the room and locate my shoes and handbag before walking out into the living area, prepared to tell Marcus I’m going home – this isn’t going to work.
But the moment I set eyes on him, he gives me this amazing smile that’s both happy and filled with relief. He doesn’t even need to tell me. I think I’ve known how to read him since we met – the entire time I was in the bathroom, he was out here worrying that I was going to somehow run off on him.
“Hey gorgeous. Feeling better?” he asks, holding his hand out to me. “Naomi and Theo brought coffee and pastries. I saved you the chocolate croissant.” He smiles as I slip my hand in his feeling the hum of our connection traveling from his body and into mine.
I open my mouth, planning to say ‘I’m sorry, Marcus. You know this can’t work between us.’ But instead, I say, “Thank you, that’s really thoughtful.”
He hands me my coffee and the croissant on a plate and kisses the side of my head as he does so. This small and simple gesture touches my heart – he remembered what I ate when we went out together… how many men actually do that?
Marcus
Thank god she’s ok. After the way she was acting when she went into the bathroom, I thought she’d be acting like I was the last person she wanted to be around. But when she looks at me, that connection is still there. Thank god.
“Thank you both for bringing some supplies,” Lisa says to Theo and Naomi. “I mean, I know this must be really weird for you. You meet me kind of randomly and it turns out I’m well… you know the story.”
Theo, who was taking a sip from his takeaway coffee, lowers the cup and rests it on his knee. “Honestly, we’re just glad Marcus stopped sulking long enough to call us.”
“Oi,” I reprimand jokingly, wishing I had something to throw at him. “Watch it, or I’ll piss off for another two years.”
Naomi holds out her hand and shakes her head. “Oh no. Please don’t. I have my wedding dress chosen, and I’m never getting married if you don’t come to the wedding.” She turns to Lisa and briefly explains. “Theo wants his whole family at the wedding and more importantly, he wants Marcus as best man. They were very close before the whole ‘Fuck you’ debacle,” she says, using her fingers for quotes before holding her hand beside her mouth and exaggerating her speech as if she’s only talking to Lisa, “which is what I’ve taken to calling it.”
Lisa smiles, and places her now empty plate on the table. “Yeah. I only recently saw that. I questioned Marcus pretty heavily about that night.”
“Yeah. He told us last night. He said talking to you helped him realise what a dick he’s been most of his life. I’ve been telling him he’s a dick for years. But he’s my little brother. He gets away with everything,” Theo adds. Immediately, he’s acting exactly how he always has around me. Except now, he’s that little more relaxed. It makes me wonder why I waited so long to speak to him again.
I laugh. “I didn’t get away with shit. Mum and dad were just so worried about you all the time, Goth boy, that as long as I acted like a semi normal person, they were relieved,” I retort. It’s all in good humour surrounding Theo’s years as a tortured gothic artist. He barely spoke, dressed head to toe in black, and wore black and white make up that freaked our very traditional Italian heritage parents, and made them wonder if they were going to need an exorcist to snap him out of it.
Giving me a chuckle in response, he looks around my apartment, taking in his surroundings for the first time since he got here. “So, have you got a studio set up in here?”
“I do,” I grin. “Wanna see it?”
“Is the pope catholic?”
Lisa
“I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see those two talking again,” Naomi says to me as she watches Theo and Marcus walk down the hall, laughing and joking together before they disappear into a room I’m yet to see.
“If nothing good comes of all this, I’m glad it at least brought them together. I think Marcus has been very lonely doing this fame thing on his own,” I explain, taking a sip of coffee. The caffeine is certainly helping to wake up my sleep-deprived brain.
She tilts her head a little as if she’s studying me. “You don’t think you and Marcus getting together is a good thing?” she asks. “He seems like a new man, and I can’t help but think it’s your influence that’s changed him. He’s more… grounded… happy.”
I cross my legs, pulling at the hem of my dress so it’s covering my knee. “If we were regular people, I’d be saying an emphatic yes. But after what happened last night…” I pause, staring at my coffee cup in my hands as I shake my head. “How can being with a woman who the public hates be good for him or his career? His fans are already turning on him. His manager has threatened to ruin him… I just…” I shrug my shoulders and place my cup on the table. “I want to be with him. But I don’t see how.”
Naomi presses her lips together in an understanding smile. “Listen, I’ve been on the wrong side of the press as well. When Marcus had his ‘fuck you’ moment, all the press wanted to do was talk to us about what happened. But Theo, myself and our other band members, decided that we would simply refuse to comment and ignore the whole affair. It was hard for me, because I got a fair bit of hate mail from fans who thought I chose the wrong brother. But, you know what? Fuck them. They don’t know me. They don’t know Theo, or Marcus for that matter, and they certainly don’t know you. Don’t let them win.”
Nodding, I lean back and fold my arms over my chest. “I wish it were that simple, Naomi. But it’s not. Do you even know why they hate me so much? Do you remember what I did?”
She nods her head. “Yeah. I do. It was everywhere.”
“Then you know how bad everything got. I couldn’t go anywhere without someone calling me ‘whore’, ‘bitch’, ‘psycho’ or some derivative of all three. I had things thrown at me, my car, my house. I was spat on. God only knows how long it would have gone on for if I hadn’t decided to lie low and change my name. It’s the only way I could make it stop.”
She takes a breath to say something to me, but Theo calling from down the hallway interrupts us. “Hey Nomes, get in here and see this set up he has. It shits all over the garage.”
Calling out that she’s coming, she stands and places a hand on my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “There’s something really special between you two. I feel it in the air when you’re near each other. Don’t give up on that. It isn’t easy to replace.”
Tears prick in my eyes as I swallow back my emotions and nod. “Ok.”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she says quietly.
I sit and finish my coffee on my own, running through every moment since Marcus and I met. My hope wants me to stay here and wait for them all to come back – to just pretend that everything will be fine. We’ll just ride it out and live together happily ever after.
But, I’m a logical person. This can’t work, and I’m not strong enough to tell him I need to leave and actually go through with it.
Picking up my bag, I stand and walk as quietly as I can to the front door and whisper, “I’m sorry,” as I quietly slip through it and leave like the chicken-shit-scum-of-the-earth bitch that I am.
Chapter 14
Marcus
“I think this is the first time I’ve actually hated you Marcus,” Naomi says after a while. She’s joking of course, but she’s referring to my recording room. It’s basically a miniature version of what you see at an actual studio.
A Beautiful Rock Page 12
