“Bon voyage, Pearl – see you in New York. Soon.”
***
Sophie must have called the airport because when I board the plane I find I have been upgraded to First Class. The irony is not lost on me. Finally, she and I have a chance to be friends – she is making so much effort - but our friendship has come too late.
I mull over everything that Laura said about her and envision Laura clicking her slim fingers and the hot, passionate embrace that she and Alexandre must have shared, knowing that their relationship was back on course. A rush of jealousy floods through me and for a moment I feel the urge to plot some kind of Sicilian revenge on her, but then I sink back into my plush airplane seat and appreciate the fact that she knew Alexandre first. She must feel she has priority, and however strongly I feel about him is neither here nor there. It is Laura he has chosen, not me.
Traveling First Class reminds me of how my life would have continued had I been the wife of a billionaire. That word, ‘billionaire’ sounds ridiculous – out of my league – even out of Alexandre’s league because he’s just a young guy in T- shirt and jeans who likes to surf and rock climb. But he is a billionaire – that’s who he is - and Laura is claiming him for her own because of it. His wealth is letting our love down. I think of the tree house option in Thailand and wish I had snapped it up there and then; away from Laura and her treacherous, gold-digging claws.
Alexandre doesn’t love me, it’s clear. He doesn’t even pick up the phone anymore.
It is over. I will just have to go back to how things were before – back to The Desert. Because the only person I want is him. I cannot even imagine kissing anyone else, let alone sex.
I stretch back on my comfortable seat and close my eyes. I can feel his touch; the way he strokes my inner thigh, brushing his finger lightly against my panties which are always soaked by the time we make love because he waits until I’m begging him – screaming for him. He is always rock hard, even when he just kisses me, even when all he does is look at me. Stop, Pearl! Stop torturing yourself!
“Would you like a beverage, ma’am?” I look up from my reverie and a pretty flight attendant is looking at me sweetly.
“Yes, please. Bring me a Bloody Mary with extra horseradish and one of your best Russian Vodkas – you choose.”
“Certainly.”
Perhaps I can drown my sorrows, one last time, before I land in New York and start my life afresh. I have already arranged things with Daisy. She and Amy will be moving in with me. I’ll be back working on documentaries and back to being the self-sufficient woman I was before.
Life happens when you’re busy making plans. So true.
Chapter Three
I fumble with my new apartment key, already impressed with the grand lobby and its plush décor below. I’m feeling really nervous now. It seems a lifetime away when I last spoke to Alexandre in the back yard of my brother’s apartment in San Francisco. Here I am now, standing by the door of one of the ‘fuck-off’ farewell gifts – part of his guilt package that had him running back to Laura and brushing me off with money to ease his guilt.
Then my mind gets working…no…would that be possible? Would it have been possible that he wanted Laura back, all along, and they were in it together – that he knew about her telling me that Sophie was out to kill me? He knew that would have made me run for the hills…a sure way of getting me out of the picture….
To my amazement, the door swings open, before me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I tumble into the open gap and a pair of muscular arms catches my fall. My apartment being broken into, already, and I haven’t even started living here yet? My heart is racing and I yelp at the surprise of a stranger in my new building. I trip forward in a double stumble and dare to look up at my adversary. I expect a masked robber in a balaclava but instead, I see a pair of peridot-green eyes that are inches away from my face.
“Alexandre.”
“Pearl, baby.”
My stomach is flipping and folding in on itself. I fall headlong into him, gasping with desire, lust, happiness and relief. But then my inner voice warns: L.A.U.R.A.
He loves another woman. Be careful, Pearl.
He’s holding me now, tightly in his arms as he tilts my head up to kiss me. Tears are in his eyes. “Jesus, I’ve missed you. I can’t live without you, Pearl. I need you. I’ve been climbing the walls.”
I try to push him away. “Get off me! What are you playing at? You’re with Laura now. Leave me alone, Alexandre. Why are you torturing me?”
He grabs me in his embrace, again, and presses his lips to mine. His eyes are hungry, roaming and boring into me, the green flickering like the color of lit brandy aflame. “What are you talking about? I’m not with Laura.” He breathes sex into my mouth.
I turn my head to the side and hiss, “Don’t screw with my head, Alexandre! I saw you enter Laura’s front door today. You fucked her in the middle of the afternoon. You took her a gift in a big box. You’re living with her. You’re going to marry her – she said so!” The words come out in screeches and squeals. I must be waking up the whole building – not the best start to my new life here in this apartment.
To my horror, Alexander says nothing, just shakes his head as if in disbelief. I step back away from him and observe a huge bulge in his jeans and a look of libidinous need in his eyes. Laura was right, he’s ‘in lust’ with me. He loves her and wants to be with her but he wants to ‘fuck’ me. His hand cups his crotch as if to adjust his massive, uncontrollable weapon – a weapon that wants to claim me and posses me. He’s wearing one of his hand-tailored, made-to-measure suits. I wonder if the Savile Row tailor instinctively knows he needs to give extra space in that area – room for Alexandre’s ‘weapon’ to flex and maneover itself.
I feel dizzy, nauseous, because my desire is as potent as his. I want to stay strong – I need to protect myself but all I can think of, right now, is ripping off my panties and spreading my legs for him. He’s so good looking and sexy that I’m melting before him like the pathetic ice cream cone that I am. Where is my will power?
He edges closer to me, brushes his lips along my neck so I quiver with longing. I’m trying to hide my craving. He whispers in my ear “You have to trust me, baby. I don’t want Laura. I haven’t fucked Laura and I’m not living with her – that’s crazy, please believe me.”
“It’s not crazy! She said so. And I saw you with my own eyes at her house!”
“Well, she was talking nonsense. I just zipped by her house to drop something off.”
“Bullshit! You haven’t even called me, you haven’t picked up your cell – you’ve been avoiding me!”
His voice is gentle. “I haven’t called you because I knew you needed time to sort your head out. Let’s face it, Pearl, you were all over the place. You needed time alone to reflect; not only those nightmares and all that shit, but on the whole Sophie issue, which I hear is resolving itself nicely. She told me you bumped into each other.” He cups his large hand on my butt and I’m too mesmerized by him to move. “I didn’t get in touch, chérie, because things were too haywire.” He breathes into my ear and adds huskily, “But it’s been hell for me; I’ve missed you like crazy. You’re all I can think of night and day. I’m obsessed with you. I’ve been going around with a hard-on for two weeks. Please Pearl, calm me down. I feel like an animal – I need you – I need you, baby.”
My heart is racing and my stomach’s churning in nauseous waves. I’m so crazy about this man, it is literally making me feel sick. “You just want to fuck me and then go right back to Laura,” I spit out. “What were you doing bringing her that massive box? A gift, no doubt – perhaps a Kelly Bag?”
Squint lines radiate from his face as if he’s amused but he notices the set fury on my face and states quietly, “I was bringing Laura her books from my house in Provence, that’s all. You didn’t like them being there – I wanted to make you feel more at home.”
“That’s crap and you know it! Why didn’t
you get Madame Menager to just Fedex them?”
“Because the last time I used Fedex, the package, which happened to be worth a lot of money, went AWOL for three weeks. Madame Menager had put Royaume Uni on the address and it went back and forth to Romania three times – they used the first two letters, the RO. Customer service in France is a disaster -I didn’t want to risk it. I needed to pop by my house – the pool’s being worked on - so I picked up the books while I was at it.”
“Why was it gift-wrapped, then?”
“The hotel did that. I’d bought some cashmere scarves and things that I was going to have sent to my mother, so they took the liberty of wrapping the box of books, obviously assuming it was also a gift.”
I flinch and eye him suspiciously. I so want to believe him. “That doesn’t explain all the information Laura has about me. How did she know about me and Alessandra Demarr? Laura said nasty things to me, Alexandre. That you think I’m a ‘loony’ with a ‘slutty past’ – she knows stuff about me that only you could have told her.” I push my hands fiercely at his chest to shove him away but another rush of desire floods through me when I touch him - that chest, those abs and his smooth skin.
“She said what? I sure as hell didn’t say any of those things. How could I say them when I don’t even think them?”
“Well, you told her about Alessandra!”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Well someone did and it wasn’t Sophie and it wasn’t Alessandra and it wasn’t me. You are the only other person that knows.”
“This is insane!”
“That’s why it’s time for you to leave now, please. I don’t ever, ever want to see you again. Please exit from my loony, lesbian, slutty-past life.”
He holds my shoulders. There is no point trying to push him away – he’s too solid, too strong, too determined.
His eyes flit about as if recalling something. “Alessandra must have said something to Sophie, maybe to rile her up, it doesn’t make sense—”
“No, Sophie doesn’t know - if she did she would have hardly upgraded my plane ticket to first class. Please go now, Alexandre.”
“She didn’t upgrade you. I did.”
“Did Sophie tell you my flight time?”
“She did, but I knew it already.”
“What? How? You’re spying on me?”
His mouth tips up crookedly as if he wants to smile but he stops himself. “Was it comfortable enough for you in First?”
“Yes, thank you for the upgrade, but I would have been quite happy in Economy had I known it was you and there were strings attached and that you were stalking me.”
His mouth is tilted into a very subtle smirk when he tells me, “I know, it was wrong of me, baby. It’s something I would never normally do – I respect people’s privacy. But I was worried about you; I just wanted to know your whereabouts, just in case.” He steps closer and murmurs, “Anyway, deep down inside, you secretly like me keeping an eye on you Pearl, admit it.”
It’s true, I do like the fact that he’s been thinking about me and wanting to know where I am. But the question is, why? What does he want from me? I glare at him and say, “Stalking me - but with only one thing in mind - to get into my panties when it’s actually Laura you want to be with.” The idea that he desires me so much physically is a real turn-on. I try to hide it with my furious scowl but what’s going on down south of the border is giving me away – even if only to myself.
He flings his arms in the air with exasperation. Boy he’s a good actor. “I do not fucking well want to be with Laura! I want to be with you. I want to marry you. Please, baby – I’ll get to the bottom of this; something strange is going on. I’ll talk to Laura—”
“Oh yes, I bet you will.”
He lays a hand gently on my shoulder and tells me quietly. “Pearl, chérie. I love you. I’ve missed you so much. I love you; you are the only woman I want.”
I shrug my shoulder to shake off his hand and roll my eyes in disbelief like a sulky teenager.
He roars at me, “You have to believe me!” The neighbors would have heard that outburst, for sure.
Something about his hot-blooded anger, not only tickles me, but jolts me into action. I do want to trust him and in that split second, I decide that I have to let him hold me, at least one more time, even if he is lying. I can’t stand being in The Desert. I need him, his touch, his breath on mine. I need to believe his lies.
I stand there weakly, succumbing to him as he unzips my jeans and puts his hand down into my panties, pushing his finger into my soaking wet opening. He scoops me up in his arms and says, “That’s it, you want this as much as I do. No more games, Pearl.”
He takes me into the bedroom and throws me onto the soft mattress, his massive bulge flexing through his elegant pants.
“What if I said ‘no’, what if I said I couldn’t do this?” I mumble, only too aware that I can’t resist him, knowing this whole Laura issue will have to sit on the back burner because I can’t hold out anymore.
“Then I’d know you’d be lying,” he rumbles, casting off his tailored jacket and unbuttoning his beautiful, bespoke pants.
I gasp at his size – his raging angry cock wants all of me – I start to frantically pull off my jeans and panties. I too, feel like an animal. I lie there thrashing about the bed - wanton like some Babylon whore, my legs spread wide. “Fuck me, Alexandre, please,” I whisper – “I need you, all of you. Fuck me.”
“You bet I’ll fuck you.” He licks his lips lasciviously, crawls between my legs, laying his naked body on top of me. He’s beautiful – how I’ve missed this. His dark floppy hair, his lean, sexy body, his flashing green eyes wanting me, needing me. But I suddenly feel as if I’ve been too easy, so I close my legs – a bit late, I know, but I need to show some semblance of pretense – so I squeeze them together to try and make myself seem less like a cat in heat. A ridiculous attempt to gain back a sprinkling of dignity.
His strength overpowers me – he knows I want this as much as he does. His mouth is on mine, his tongue probing me as growls are rumbling from his throat “Don’t suddenly play the chaste damsel in distress with me, Pearl. I know what you want, chérie. You want me to fuck your brains out.”
He eases his hard erection between my unyielding thighs and I close myself tightly around him, still feigning the ‘hard to get’ female. But within seconds I’m whimpering with pleasure. He doesn’t slam himself inside me, which is what I’m expecting, but starts fucking my clit. Oh my God…it feels out of this world. He’s not even an inch in but just ramming me back and forth, pummeling me there on my sweet spot – why haven’t we tried this position before? This is amazing. I’m groaning, thrusting myself at him as I sense my wetness pool with arousal.
“Alexandre, this is…wow…oh my God!”
His hands are clutching my hair as he fucks my clit over and over and over, groaning with each thrust, his mouth on mine, his tongue searching my tongue, tangling and lashing at each other as his cock thrashes my clit relentlessly. I always thought it ridiculous when I read about women being ‘pounded’ to orgasm but I think it’s about to happen. The rhythmic sliding, up and down has me on the edge. I don’t want to climax because this feels so fucking amazing that I want it to last forever – it’s so hot, so sexy, so incredible - but I open my legs a touch because my body is doing its own thing. He goes in further. He hits the perfect spot and that’s it. Yes, Pearl Robinson is being ‘pounded’ to orgasm.
“Alexandre…aaahhhh” I can hardly say his name as his mouth is hungrily all over mine. “I’m coming…oh wow, I’m coming really hard.”
I can feel my slickness oozing through the core of me as spasms overtake the center of my body. He fastens his mouth on my throat and sucks, also changing the angle of his hips as the root of his erection presses into some other magical spot and I feel another wave crash through me. He pushes my thighs apart with his knees and I’m wide open – my nails scraping his back as my orgasm flut
ters down from its peak. He rams himself into me, filling me with his immense size and I cry out, desperate for the whole of him.
He’s growling like a lion, really ‘fucking my brains out’ – it’s true, I am no longer coherent. He’s now nipping my neck, covering me with ravenous wet kisses, pumping me deep, ruthlessly – both his hands are cupping my ass tightly as he thrusts me rhythmically, bringing me as close to his groin as possible with his grip. My hands rake down his back and claw down onto his butt as I bring my legs up and wrap them around his neck. He’s in so deep now, it hurts, but I’m relishing the sweet, sharp pain as he pumps his thick length into my womb.
“I. Love. Fucking. You.” His mantra is almost cruel, punctuated with each thrust. “So. Fucking. Wet. So Fucking. Horny. My cock thinks about you. All…Day. Long. All. Fucking. Day. Long. Your. Wet. Pearlette. Your. Tight. Horny. Pussy. Always ready to be…Fucked. By. Me.”
Our mouths are frantic, tongues lashing out at each other, licking all over, biting, sucking. This is not love-making, this is dirty carnal sin. It’s verging on painful but I want it this way. I want to feel him. To own him. Laura doesn’t elicit this kind of desire from him. I do. I’m his addiction. I’m his drug.
“Why did you leave me?” I murmur as he rams all of himself mercilessly into me. “Why didn’t you phone?” I push my butt up higher as my ankles close fast about his neck.
He pulls almost all the way out, tantalizingly slowly. “Because you needed to know how much you wanted me. And I needed to have you desperate for me.” He’s licking my tongue, speaking only between kisses which are carnal pools of frantic desire.
“I am desperate,” I breathe.
He slams back into me. “I know - your body’s telling me. Do you think about sex with me all day long, Pearl?”
“Yes.” He pulls out teasingly slowly. Sooo slowly.
“Are you cured of your penis phobia?” He thrusts himself in really deep and hard. I groan. I feel so dominated. Then he eases a tiny way out and speeds up, circling his hips. Oh yes. Oh yes.
Shimmers of Pearl (The Pearl Trilogy, Part 3) Page 3
