“You look amazing,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers. “The seventies look suits you.”
She laughed softly. “Bobby’s idea. I’m kind of getting used to it though.”
“India ...”
She shook her head, putting her fingertips to his mouth. “No. I want to say something. Something I should have said to you a lot sooner.” She stroked his cheek, gently kissing his mouth, the touch of his lips on hers making her feel weak at the knees. “I love you, Joseph Foster. I love you.”
“Oh Jesus, India, I love you too, baby.”
He felt like crying. He was a thirty-three year old man and he felt like crying such was the relief he was feeling right now.
He pulled her close and kissed her slowly, a long, drawn out and beautiful kiss that he felt with every inch of his body. She tasted incredible, she felt like heaven and he just wanted to get her away from this and make love to her. This was the beginning of something new and incredible and he’d never felt like this before. Never.
“You are so fucking sexy dressed like that, do you know that?”
“Personally, I feel like something straight out of ‘Saturday Night Fever’ but, if you like it ...”
He smiled. Everything from the pale blue eye shadow to the glitter over the cheeks to the lip gloss he’d just kissed away, it was all turning him on. She was like a walking seventies fantasy and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on here and she’d noticed that, smiling the sexiest smile as she pushed herself against him, his hand sliding up her dress to the top of her thigh.
“Jesus, India, I’m dying here! Let’s go back to the suite, come on. We can always come back down later, but I really need to do this. I need to be with you.”
She shut him up with a kiss, taking his hand, still smiling that smile. “We’ve got a private elevator up to the suite, remember? And, I’ve never had sex in an elevator.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Never?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
“Do you, y’know, want to go for a first then?”
She nodded, biting down on her bottom lip.
“Right, well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go, beautiful!”
They almost ran to their private elevator, not even waiting for the doors to finish closing before they were almost tearing each others clothes off; what was the point in waiting when you wanted something bad enough? And she wanted JJ Foster, like she’d never wanted anyone in a long time. Not since - not since Michael, but he was nowhere in her thoughts as JJ pushed her up against the elevator wall, naked except for the boots he’d wanted her to keep on because they were making him as horny as hell. Teamed with the seventies hair and make-up he felt like he was in some kind of throwback soft-porn fantasy as he pushed his way inside her, kissing her neck as she threw her head back, moaning so loud it turned him on even more until he felt himself burning up with it all, finding it hard to hold on for much longer. It was all over before they’d even got to the suite.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers, trying to get his breath back, still holding her naked body against his. “For this afternoon. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She stroked the back of his neck with her fingertips. “I needed to be pushed, Joe. I really think I needed that.”
He smiled, kissing her quickly, grabbing their clothes from the floor as the elevator door opened up into their suite. “One more time then we go back down to the club, ok?”
She played with his fingers as he held her hand, her left hand that was now bereft of the wedding and engagement rings that Michael had once put there. She preferred it this way now. Maybe she hadn’t before, maybe she’d always slightly mourned the fact that they’d gone, but then came JJ. Then came her beautiful Joseph, and she just hoped she was ready for this new journey. She really hoped she was ready.
She looked up at him, kissing his mouth gently. “Ok. One more time.”
And, whether she was ready or not, she couldn’t wait to see where that journey would take them.
***
“Oh, come on, Michael. Let’s go clubbing, come on,” Layla said, clinging onto his hand, almost dragging him in the direction of the hotel nightclub.
Michael couldn’t deny that dinner with Layla had actually been a surprise, and a pleasant one at that. She’d talked quite intelligently about her move away from the world of glamour modelling, a world she’d made a lot of money from but one she wouldn’t be sorry to see the back of. She’d been taking acting classes and she really wanted to get back into that side of things, but she didn’t ask Michael for help this time. Her father was doing his best to try and get people to take her seriously again and Michael couldn’t help but think that, if only she’d been this way from the beginning then maybe her career might have taken off a lot sooner, and she might never have had to take that detour into the glamour world.
He’d found himself listening to her, actually interested in what she had to say and, for the first time in years, he’d spent a good couple of hours without constantly thinking about India.
But, although Layla had been great company, and he’d enjoyed his evening with her, he had no inclination to go clubbing. He was fifty-five years old; his clubbing days were well and truly behind him. But she was very insistent and he found himself being dragged inside whether he liked it or not.
The music was incredibly loud, reverberating off the walls and it was so crowded, overwhelming almost, but Michael reluctantly followed Layla to the bar where she ordered her usual favourite champagne. He leaned back against the bar and looked around. This was a whole new world to him. He and India had never gone clubbing, not together anyway. She’d sometimes gone out with Bobby or Charley to places like this but he’d never really wanted to join them. This wasn’t his thing. It never really had been.
He continued to look around the place, not really knowing what he was looking at but he couldn’t stop himself. He was mildly fascinated by it all now he was in here, and as he continued to look around, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A couple - a man and a woman - so into each other it didn’t seem right that they should even be down here in a public place. It didn’t look like they wanted company; it looked like they just wanted to be alone. They were sat on one of the sofas by the wall near the bar, and she had her legs - the most beautiful, tanned legs – swung over her boyfriend’s lap and he was stroking them, running a hand up over her thigh, underneath her powder blue dress, kissing her in a way that should probably have been saved for the bedroom.
As Michael watched – because he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t look away – a sickening reality suddenly hit him like a speeding truck. He hadn’t recognised her before. Her hair was different, and she just hadn’t looked like how he’d remembered her, but it was definitely her. It was India. Oh, Jesus, it was India. Now he wanted to turn away, he wanted to stop himself from watching but he couldn’t. It was breaking his heart but he couldn’t look away.
She was smiling at him, at the man who’d taken his place, this much younger, handsome man, she was smiling at him and she looked so happy, so unbelievably happy, and he’d never realised how much it would hurt to see that for himself. But this was worse than anything he’d ever imagined. This was like being stabbed in the heart and someone twisting the knife.
“Is everything ok?” Layla asked, her eyes following Michael’s stare, finally seeing what he was seeing. JJ Foster all over his ex-wife.
“Oh. Ok.” She touched Michael’s arm gently, genuinely feeling sorry for him having to witness that because she was starting to really feel something for this man, and not because she wanted something from him. Not this time. Maybe she’d flirted with him in the beginning because she’d wanted to make India jealous, but, was that ever really going to happen now? India was quite obviously completely wrapped up in JJ. No, this time it was different, things had changed. This time Layla wanted to be with Michael for no reason other than the f
act she enjoyed his company. And the fact that she was actually starting to care about him.
“Come on, Michael. Leave them to it, come on.”
Michael wanted to, of course he did, but this was the first time in almost four years that he’d seen India in person and it was seriously messing with his mind. She almost felt like a stranger as he watched her with JJ, watched as this man held onto his ex-wife’s hand, stroking her fingers just like he’d used to do, watched as he kissed her again and she just fell against him, neither of them aware of anyone else around them. They were in their own private world. That was the mother of his little boy over there and yet he had no right to even speak to her.
“Michael ... come on, honey.” Layla’s voice broke into his thoughts and he finally looked away from India and JJ. “Do you want to get out of here?” she asked.
He looked at her and nodded as she took his hand.
“Then let’s go.”
It was a feeling of relief mixed with heart wrenching pain as they left the club. Michael’s head was all over the place. Seeing India like that, seeing her with another man, actually there, in front of him. The pain was incredible.
They went to a quieter bar where Layla got him exactly what he needed – a large bourbon.
“Thanks,” he said, managing a smile.
She smiled back. “You looked like you needed it. Michael ... she isn’t coming back you know.”
Michael looked up. “I don’t want to hear that, Layla.”
“Oh, come on. You saw them down there. She’s obviously crazy about him.”
“Doesn’t mean to say she’s in love with him.”
“She’s head over heels in love with him, Michael, you saw them. You know that. You could see it, it was staring you right in the face, and you’re only kidding yourself if you think that’s some kind of quick fling happening down there … she’s gone, Michael. She’s gone.”
Michael stared into his drink. He couldn’t get the image of India with JJ out of his head. Maybe he should have stayed down there in the club, stayed until she looked his way because she could have done. Eventually, and if she’d seen him, maybe - maybe something, anything, would have happened. Just some reaction from her, something to show him that she still knew he existed.
“Michael?”
He looked up. “Sorry, Layla, I was ...”
“Miles away. I know but, did you hear what I said? She’s in love with another man. She’s moved on.” She reached out and took his hand. “Maybe it’s time you did the same.”
He looked at her. Was she really the same girl who’d used him to further her career? The same girl who’d played a part in breaking up his marriage? Because she didn’t look like her or act like her anymore.
He squeezed her hand and she smiled. “I know I’ve done some things in the past ...”
“No, Layla. No. The past is where it should be, and it’s best left there, you’re right. You’re right.” He sighed, sitting forward, still holding onto her hand. “It’s time to move forward. Time to move on. India’s quite obviously found someone else and ...” He looked right at her, smiling. “... and maybe I might have found someone else too.”
She smiled back, an extraordinary feeling of happiness flooding through her. For so long she’d wanted this man, for a number of different reasons she’d wanted him and now, when she wanted him for who he was and not what he could give her, or who she could hurt, he finally wanted her too. “Are you sure about this, Michael?”
He nodded. “I’m sure.”
And he was, for now. She was right. India wasn’t coming back to him, at least, not yet. But this fight was far from over. He could move on, he could make himself do that, but what he couldn’t make himself do was stop loving his ex-wife. She was way too far under his skin for that to ever happen now.
He still had plans. He wasn’t giving up. Michael Walsh never gave up. She’d come back to him, he knew she would. One day. But while he was waiting it wouldn’t hurt to have some fun. It wouldn’t hurt at all.
***
The whole adrenalin rush this night was giving her was kicking in big time with India. She was having a blast! And it was all to do with her wonderful boyfriend.
“I don’t know about you but I could murder a drink,” JJ smiled as they walked back into the busy club. “What do you fancy?”
India giggled. Miguel’s lethal cocktail and the champagne she’d had before that had already gone to her head and she felt like a sixteen year old kid who’d just bagged the best looking guy in school.
“I fancy you, Joseph Joshua Foster.”
He laughed, that deep, gorgeous laugh and she literally swooned as he kissed her. God, she was beginning to love Vegas all over again. You could just shove reality on the back burner and nobody seemed to care.
“I’d love a vodka,” she smiled up at him.
“Are you mixing your drinks?” He raised an eyebrow. He did that a lot and she loved it. It made her stomach do tiny little flips and she giggled again.
“Big time, mister.”
He pulled her closer. “Does that mean trouble?”
She pushed herself against him, playing with the collar of his shirt. “It means, if you play your cards right, handsome, you’ll get more than you bargained for later.”
He smiled, wishing she was out of that dress and naked underneath him again. He couldn’t stop thinking about her like that, he couldn’t stop needing her.
“One vodka coming right up and then, later, hopefully so will I.”
She watched him walk to the bar, biting down on her bottom lip and smiling to herself, until she heard someone shouting her name. She looked over towards the sofas near the bar where Bobby was standing waving his arms about, beckoning to her to come over.
She ran to him, as fast as she could in four inch heels, squealing almost as loudly as him, giving him a quick hug and kiss.
He was jumping up and down and clapping his hands like an excited child. “Come on then, angel, tell all. Is everything back on?”
“Well, it all came off in the elevator. Apart from the boots,” India grinned and Bobby squealed again.
“You didn’t?”
She couldn’t stop smiling as she sat down. “We did!”
Bobby sat next to her, fanning himself with a coaster. “It’s like something out of a James Bond movie.”
India looked at him and laughed. “Hardly.”
“And … are we totally and utterly heart-stoppingly in love, princess?”
She smiled again. “I think we most definitely are. Oh, Bobby, he’s got me feeling like a kid again. Right now I reckon Ethan’s got a higher mental age than me.”
“Nothing wrong with that, angel.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “You deserve this, you really do. I love you to pieces, Ms Walsh and don’t you ever forget that. So, you be happy, ok? You be very, very happy ... oh, here comes handsome now. I’ll leave you to it. I’m meeting Miguel in a little while, so …you behave yourself, ok?” He winked and ran off to wait for his extremely handsome Puerto Rican boyfriend.
JJ sat down beside her. “Everything ok?”
She looked at him and smiled. “Everything’s fine.”
He smiled back. “Come here.”
She moved closer, his mouth lowering down onto hers as he pulled her legs up over his, his fingers stroking her thigh as the kiss got deeper and harder.
“You know you mentioned me getting more than I bargained for later?” he asked, his hand snaking farther up underneath her dress. “Do you, want to elaborate?”
She rested her forehead against his, stroking his face gently. “Oh, I don’t know. How does sex that’s probably illegal in at least forty-three states sound?”
He groaned. “I’m not banking on getting much sleep tonight, let’s put it that way.”
“Good,” she whispered, taking his hand, his fingers stroking her. “Because I wasn’t planning on letting you get any.”
She closed her eyes as their
mouths met again, moving gently together, the kiss slowly building in intensity as the rest of the world just disappeared around them.
“You’re killing me, India Walsh. You’re fucking killing me.”
“I’m making it my mission in life,” she smiled, touching his mouth with her fingertips.
“Ok ... give me two minutes, baby and I’ll be right back. I promise.”
“Where are you going?”
“Do you really think you can kiss me like that, promise me incredibly dirty sex and then think it won’t do anything to me? So, I’ve just gotta go finish something otherwise I won’t get through the next ten minutes never mind the whole night.”
He kissed her quickly and she watched him run off in the direction of the toilets, pulling her dress back down as Bobby arrived next to her again.
She looked up. “Is Miguel here already?”
“No. No, he isn’t. India ... did you know ...?” His expression had turned quite serious and she couldn’t help a slight uneasy feeling kicking in somewhere in the pit of her stomach. Bobby was never really serious, not unless there was a very good reason.
“What? Bobby, what’s the matter?”
He looked over towards the bar and India followed his gaze.
“Michael ... he was there, not two seconds ago, he was there, by the bar.”
India felt her stomach sink again as she looked at where Bobby had indicated. “He was there? When?”
“I told you. Not two seconds ago. He was standing there, with Layla Boyd and … he saw you, angel. I’m sure he did. He was watching you with JJ. He saw you.”
India couldn’t say anything. The thought of her ex-husband being in such close proximity to her after all these years, well, she wasn’t sure how that made her feel. She just wasn’t sure at all.
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