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The Gamble (D'Arth Series Book 3)

Page 6

by Camille Oster


  "Usual.”

  Dinner was being served practically as soon as they had levelled off. Marco was actually starving as he hadn't really stopped for lunch during the day. They were awkwardly silent throughout the meal as they ate. And after, he sat back with a drink, relaxing.

  "So when's your trip up to Scotland?"

  "Next weekend.”

  "Are you going to tell Gavin about …" she started, but drifted off. She wanted to know if he was going to run and tell Gavin like some teenager bragging.

  "No.”

  She nodded.

  "Not unless you want me to.”

  "No," she stated in a rush. "I am not into playing games with my exes.”

  "Nice to hear it. Is there any chance you'll get back together?"

  "No," she said. "I don't think I could ever trust him again. And honestly, we weren't right even before that. I just want us to stay as we are.”

  Marco felt a sense of relief. He didn't want to be in the middle of this if it was still a Gavin and Alex show.

  The flight crew went into full preparations and they landed a few minutes later. To the organisation and calm efficiency of Dusseldorf airport, Heathrow was chaos that somehow managed to work. Marco walked through the long corridors until they reached the arrivals. "Have a drink with me," he said.

  Alex looked uncertain. "Here?"

  "Yeah. There's a bar right over there. Do you have somewhere you need to be?" He didn't want to let her go just yet. Actually, he didn't want to let her go at all.

  "I was going to go home.”

  "Everyone will be out. You'll only be returning to a cold, empty flat. Instead, have a drink with me. I can be charming when I try.” Alex smiled involuntarily and Marco felt like puffing up a bit. He could make her smile and he really liked it. "You can't just love me and leave me.”

  Alex narrowed her eyes and twisted her head, considered him. "And where do you expect this to lead?"

  "It's just a drink, Alex," he said with a grin and stepped backwards toward the bar. She watched him, deciding whether she should. "It doesn't necessarily mean a whole weekend of amazingly hot sex.”

  Alex shook her head like he was incorrigible, but he suspected more at his audacity than an outright rejection. Internally he was begging her to come. Their brief encounter just wasn't enough and he really didn't want to finish the night alone, not when he knew exactly how it could finish.

  Tentatively she took a step forward. "Just one drink," she said, but Marco knew he had her.

  He ordered her a vodka grapefruit and a bourbon and cola for himself. He was not going to be below his game tonight. Last night had been a drunken night of sex, but tonight was the test, he knew. He had to prove himself and he had to be better than anyone she'd ever had.

  "So, do you do this a lot?—grab random girls off the plane for a drink?"

  "No, funnily, only girls that I have been wishing for since the moment I met them.”

  Alex gave his arm a punch like he was being silly, and he had framed it that way, but there was a grain of truth in that statement. Getting their drinks, Marco watched her as she took a sip of hers. She was stunningly beautiful. Her shiny hair in a ponytail and the tip of it curled lusciously. He wanted to wrap his hands around it, pull her to him, take her mouth. He didn't understand how anyone could be stupid enough to let her go.

  She wasn't withdrawn; she stood close to him, close enough that people would think they were lovers, which they were, just not enough—yet. Irrationally, he wished he could turn around, drag her back through the airport and take a plane somewhere hot and isolated—he didn't care where—where they could spend days exploring each other and this deep-seated attraction he'd refused to let surface before.

  "I actually love airports," Alex said. "There's so much excitement. Everyone is off somewhere, or returning, either work or holiday. It's like the heartbeat of the city, where everyone's lives intercepts.”

  "I've always considered them a hassle.”

  "They are, but it's also a bit of an abstraction point, you know, the conjunction of the city. It's really the only place where I truly people watch.”

  "And what do you see?"

  "Hopes, dreams, emotions, and people putting them in actions. People off on a holiday, hoping it will be everything they hoped for—hoping it will save their marriage, start a relationship.”

  "Is that what you're looking for?"

  She grew serious for a moment. "Isn't everyone?"

  Marco shrugged.

  "Oh really? And what is it you're looking for?"

  "Honestly, so much of my time lately has been focused on getting to London and now that I'm here I've been so busy adjusting, I haven't had a chance to think beyond that. Eventually, I guess I will.”

  "So in the meantime, you'll just settle for meaningless sex in hotel rooms.”

  "Meaningless?" he said, faking offense. "Don't look down on hotel sex. All the excitement of being wanted, of wanting. None of the worry about what it means—living for the moment. Admit it, it was the most amazing sex you've ever had.”

  She laughed again. "You certainly don't have an issue with self-confidence.”

  "Am I lying?"

  She looked like she wanted to say no just to spite him, but he could also tell that she would be lying. "See, hotel sex—nothing compares to it.”

  "Cheeky sod," she said.

  Reaching out, he stroked the side of her face. The mood turned from light teasing to something more substantive. "Let's not finish this just yet," he said. "I want to be with you tonight.” That might have sounded really cheesy if it wasn't for the fact that he was dead serious. He left himself open to rejection for a moment as she considered him, and his offer.

  He wasn't going to let her say no. Leaning in, he pulled her head to him, kissing her gently, playing with her soft lips before touching the tip of his tongue to hers. He felt a frisson steal through her. If nothing else, he could tempt her. The kiss told him that she was open to the idea, but she had some reservations.

  Drawing back, he cleared his throat. "We might have to stay for another drink, or the whole world will see what you do to me.”

  Bashfully, she smiled, taking a long sip of her drink. He knew he had her, but he wasn't going to rush this. He was going to savour every moment of this evening.

  "Are you hungry?" he asked.

  "Not particularly.”

  He nodded. They stood so close and he spent a few moments studying her, trying to think if there was somewhere he should take her beforehand, but the bags would be a pain.

  After their drinks were finished, they walk down to the Tube station, which was packed, as was the train, but Marco didn't care; it forced them to stand close, front to front as he held onto the hand rail and she held onto him. He felt no need to look at anything on the train other than her. It felt like she was his and it sent both a thrill and a concern shooting down his spine. He wanted her badly. The way she looked up at him, there was an openness to her that just seemed to draw him in.

  Dropping their bags, they were kissing the moment the door to her flat closed behind them. Marco's hand was up her skirt feeling the smooth, tight skin of her thighs and the semi he'd been suffering most of the evening was rock hard and ready.

  Yanking her shirt out of her dark pencil skirt, he pulled it over her head, revealing a red lacy bra that looked awesome against her creamy skin. He would spend a moment enjoying the sight, but he needed to kiss her, feel her breasts press against his chest, the gentle tension of her hips to his.

  Stepping away, she led him to her room and closed the door behind them. She undid her skirt and let it drop. If he was still a teenager, it would be all over by now, but the best was yet to come, he smiled.

  Standing still, he let her come over and undress him, feel her fingers work around the buttons of his shirt. He wasn't going to sleep this night either, hoping she would let him stay, because he would be exhausted after this.

  Sneaking his hand around
her back, he unhooked her bra and smoothly pulled the straps down her shoulders. He wanted her completely naked. With nimble hands, she undid his belt and he stroked her down the warm skin of her arm. They were both fully naked, him hard and ready. A million thoughts ran through his head about how he wanted to do this. He wanted to do everything.

  He stepped closer, feeling her tentatively against his skin, against his aching hardness. Her breasts were soft, rubbing slightly against his chest. It was the most decadent moment he could remember, so full of promise.

  With her eyes on him, she dropped down and took him in her mouth and he gasped with the tsunami of sensation. "Alex, I'll last two seconds if you do that.”

  She took him in deeper and he shook trying to keep control. He'd do a great job showing her what he was made of if he lasted seconds into their love-making. Not a great way to play out. He'd go flaccid and she would be left wanting, disappointed. "No more," he said and gently urged her away, towards the bed, where she lay down on her back, stretching out enticingly. Her hair flowed out on the pillow and she looked like some ethereal sprite. Moving above her, he sunk down, groaning as their bodies made contact again. He had to slow this down, so he explored her neck and chest, teased her breasts until she bucked off the mattress. She was holding nothing back and he loved how she gave all to it; unashamed of her desire.

  Moving further down, he nuzzled through her folds, finding the bud that would drive her as mad as she'd done him. Her taste suffused his mind, melding with his thoughts. He could feel her tightening and he stopped, eliciting a groan of disappointment which he distracted her by moving up to kiss her. They both had to calm down this time, so he lay still on her for a moment, just watching her as she watched him. He might have been lying about hotel sex being the hottest. He'd never had to hold himself back this much. Her lips were swollen from kissing and her eyes were bright with want. Her hand skimmed along his backside, drawing his attention to the slight touch. He couldn't take it anymore.

  Entering her, he sunk into her delicious heat. Her body seemed to grip him and he moaned with the compulsion to move. He had no control over this, his body had taken over, seeking to alleviate its delicious suffering. He shifted his focus away from the riot of sensations in his body to her, and she was drawing him in, urging him deeper into her.

  "Move," she ordered.

  "I just need—" he started. There was no way he was going to be able to slow this down. "Fuck," he said and pushed hard into her. He might as well go for it. She gasped with the intensity, moaned with his withdrawals. He just needed to last long enough. Pushing in hard again, he weathered the assault and just kept moving. He felt her nails at his sides, digging in. The pain of it didn't have a chance in the maelstrom he was in. There was nowhere he could turn his attention; it was too strong; the current of it pulling him along into its shattering implosion—drawing everything out of him.

  When he regained a semblance of the world, he drew in a deep shuttering breath, feeling spent in every conceivable way. His arms were not going to hold him and he sunk down on top of her soft, warm body, feeling her heart beat erratically. "Oh my god," she said, drawing deep shaking breaths.

  Marco smiled. That's what he wanted to hear; it filled his entire being with light. "We're just getting started.” And he was completely serious. They were nowhere near done, and he wasn't going to stop until he passed out. He would bring her to the edge again and again, make her feel the devastating impact he had on her body.

  * * *

  Chapter 9:

  * * *

  Making it to the café just as Jenny sat, Alex smiled at her friend. They were meeting up on Oxford Street, which was diabolical with Christmas shoppers. "It's so good to see you.”

  "How have you been?" Jenny asked.

  "Good." Alex sat down, turning to have a look at the menu written on a chalkboard behind her.

  "What's been happening?"

  Alex turned back and shrugged.

  "Oh, don't give me that. I can tell by looking at you that something's happened. Do tell."

  Alex smiled, knowing she was turning pink right now.

  "You've met someone," Jenny teased.

  "I might have," Alex beamed.

  "Who?"

  They were interrupted by the waiter, who took their order of café au lait and eggs benedict. When he withdrew, Jenny leaned in close. "Who?"

  "Marco," Alex confessed, her cheeks flaring. "You remember that guy Gavin brought to the party in Sheppards Bush?

  "That guy who’s friends with Gavin," Jenny said. "Does Gavin know?"

  "No.”

  "Do you like him? No, I can tell you like him, you're red as a beetroot. When did this happen? How?"

  "At an advertising conference last week. He was there and there might have been some alcohol involved, and the next thing you know… " Alex couldn't stop smiling.

  "You dirty girl," Jenny chided huskily. "Well, it's better to see you like this, than all angry like the last time I saw you. Do you like him?"

  "Yeah, I do. I think I really like him, and I think he likes me.”

  Jenny sat back and considered her. "Are you sure you're giving yourself enough time to get over Gavin?"

  "Who?"

  "Alright, point taken.”

  "We spent the whole weekend together and he came over a couple of nights during the week. He sends me goodnight texts every night.”

  Jenny rolled her eyes. "You're completely in love with him, aren't you?"

  "I might be. I've been grinning like an idiot for a whole week. And he's so hot. We get on like an absolute house on fire.”

  "I told you it would take you two seconds flat to meet someone. Are you seeing him tonight?"

  "No, he's gone away for the weekend.”

  Jenny raised her eyebrows.

  "A rugby game with the boys,” Alex filled her in. Their food arrived.

  "But he is also the guy who is your competitor at work, isn't he?"

  "True, but we don't talk about work.”

  "I would go so far as to guess that you don't do much talking at all.”

  "There might be some truth to that," Alex admitted, her cheeks flaring again.

  Jenny snorted slightly, shaking her head. "I hope it works out. I really do.”

  "I think there might be something real between us.”

  Pacing the hallway in her flat, Alex waited. Work had dragged as she’d anticipated this evening. She gotten a text from Marco around lunchtime, asking if he could come over that night. She’d waited five minutes to respond, not wanting to come across too eager. But she had left work a few minutes early so she could buy a lasagne and a salad from Marks and Spencers and tidy up her room from the weekend.

  Her skin ached to be touched. She wished he'd hurry up. Biting her finger tip, she waited, conceding that she might be falling hard for Marco. She couldn't stop thinking about him. She'd tried to not let it distract her at work, but often found her thoughts drifting off.

  A knock at the door sent her heart racing and she rushed to the door and almost shook with happiness when she saw him. Leaning up, she kissed him tenderly, lingering on his soft, warm lips.

  "Hey," she said. "How are you? How was your weekend?"

  "Good. I missed you.”

  "I missed you, too.”

  Putting her arm around his neck, she sighed. It was so good just to feel him next to her. It had only been a few days, but it had felt much longer. "Come in. I got lasagne if you're hungry.”

  "Starving," he said and followed her into the kitchen, watching as she prepared their dinner.

  "How was your weekend away?" she said, turning back to him.

  "Good. Dion got trashed and was almost beat up by a security guard.”

  "Sounds like a grand old time," Alex said sarcastically, cutting some bread. "Dion is an idiot when he's had too much. Did you tell Gavin about us?"

  "No. I didn't want him sniping at me all weekend. I'll tell him during the week.”

 
; "I can if you want me to.”

  "No, I'll do it. It's a guy thing.”

  It didn't take long before Alex had the meal plated and they ate at the small kitchen table. Alex felt the moment was perfect.

  "Where is everyone?"

  "Yoga.”

  "Yoga Monday, huh?"

  "I normally go, but I had other plans tonight.” She smiled and tucked a curl behind her ear.

  Marco pulled her chair over closer to him and kissed her. He tasted like lasagne and wine, and she drew in his scent, letting it play with her senses. "Do you want to spend Christmas together?"

  Marco took a bite of his food and smiled. "What did you have in mind? Everyone's going to Norway, skiing.”

  "I meant just the two of us. We could go somewhere no one we know has gone, like Guernsey or Isle of White, or something.”

  Marco looked considerate for a moment.

  "Hide away. Just eat, sleep and not sleep," she said with a sly smile.

  "Yeah, ok," he said tentatively. "If you want to.”

  "I do," she said with a beaming smile.

  Stress was starting to build up at work—for Alex anyway. Peter had ripped her proposal to shreds and she was back to the drawing board.

  "He's such a monster," Alex said, putting her rejected art boards back on her desk.

  Lacey's mouth went tight and her lips disappeared into her frown. Suddenly, she got up and rushed off.

  "Lacey," Alex called, but Lacey wasn't turning back. Alex wondered what had happened. Lacey had nothing invested in Alex's proposal, but then she'd been talking about how awful Peter was. Alex groaned. Something must have happened. Or Peter's foul mood hadn't been contained to her.

  After a few moments of indecision, she went in search for Lacey and knew she'd found her as soon as she heard sniffling in the bathroom. One of the stalls was closed and Alex knew exactly who was hiding in there.

  "You alright?" she asked, cursing Peter for being such a prick to Lacey.

  "He's just such an asshole," Lacey said, her voice shaky from recently shed tears.

 

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