Still Falling

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Still Falling Page 10

by Costa, Bella

Quietly, they both ate their eggs, mushrooms and pastries. Both staring pointedly at their plates. Finally Marco cleared his throat and looked up at Serena.

  “Gabrielle will be here shortly with some clothes for you. She can give you a lift home.”

  “Thank you. But may I ask where my own clothes are?”

  “They got a little soaked. The Concierge will have them cleaned and delivered to you when they are ready.”

  “Umm...Okay.” She was about to ask how they got soaked but her courage failed her at the last minute.

  “Serena, you condition last night was inexcusable. Do have any idea how dangerous the position was you put yourself in?”

  “Marco, it’s nice of you to pretend to care. Really. But it’s none of your business.”

  His face looked like a thunderstorm with lightning flashing in his eyes. Serena shrunk a size, grateful for the large solid table between them.

  She watched in dismay as the muscles worked overtime under his sideburns. He slowly put his knife and fork down on his plate, his eyes piercing flaming hot holes through hers. He pushed himself away from the table and skirted it in two easy strides, never breaking eye contact.

  Serena couldn’t breathe.

  Shit. What have I done? What’s he going to do? Oh help!

  He grabbed her wrists and pulled her up from the table so brutally that her chair tipped backward, crashing onto the floor and her cutlery clattered onto the table, noisily.

  In an instant her arms were crushed between them as one of his circled her waist and held her hard while the other pulled a handful of hair back effectively forcing her face to tilt up to meet his. His mouth bruised her lips as he forced her mouth open, invading her with his tongue. His breath was ragged and smelled of coffee. He withdrew his tongue and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, biting it painfully.

  “Breathe!” he groaned.

  He held her tighter, pushing her hips closer to him, twisting so she could feel his arousal against the soft hollow of her belly.

  “Breathe now!”

  Serena gasped, eyes widening as she regained some of her motor controls.

  His tongue sought out hers again.

  With a mind of their own, Serena’s fists unfolded from the cramped position between them and flattened out against his chest.

  Mmmm Mr. Chest!

  Her touch spurred him on and his kiss deepened with urgency as her tongue tentatively started to dance.

  He pulled his head back looked at her expectantly. Her nod was barely perceptible. With heaving breaths their mouths met again, more desperate this time. With a single sweep, he pushed her plate and cup aside and lifted her onto the edge of the table. Her legs did the most natural thing in the world as they wrapped themselves around his hips. Her hands moved across his chest and down his sides to seek out the hem of his shirt desperate to get underneath and touch his warm skin.

  Still not trusting her not to run, he kept one hand firmly wound in her hair while his other moved to cup her breast. His thumb strummed gently across the hardened nipple like a guitarist. Her breathing grew more ragged. Finally her hands found the edge of his shirt and slid her hands underneath the light cotton. They explored the contours of his ribs and muscles like a blind person reading Braille.

  This is soooo wrong and I am soooo going to regret this!

  Desire built up in her core like a tightly wound spring and she tilted her hips into his looking for release. She noted his sharp intake of breath and the pause of his thumb on her breast.

  He wants me!

  Leaving her mouth, he gazed into her eyes.

  “Not here! Come.”

  He wrapped her arms around his neck, and then slid his hands from her knees along her thighs to the curve of her buttock and with her legs still wrapped around his hips he lifted her and carried her like that to the bedroom.

  Serena was flooded with a wave of emotions. Most of them she recognised. Lust, desire....she was a consenting adult and had slept with several boyfriends before. There were a few that confused her though. Right here, right now with Marco it felt like the first time.

  Marco knelt on the bed then leaned forward tipping them both onto the huge mattress. This was not how he imagined being with Serena again. He had wanted their next time to be romantic, special, indulgent. This was just raw, wanton, passion. He suddenly realised that despite convincing himself it was over, he had always known there would be a next time.

  Serena stretched out her legs so she could use her feet to push her hip up against the bulge in his jeans. This simple action brought Marco to his knees. Literally. He looked down at her stretched out waiting for him. Her lips were swollen from his rough kisses and her chest heaved with the forcefulness of her breathing. Quickly he pulled his T-shirt over his head and let it fall somewhere behind him. He then grabbed the front tails of his linen shirt and pulled outward watching as the buttons popped in tandem, exposing her soft creamy skin and her firm lace clad breasts. At last!

  Serena was having trouble thinking as the Linen shirt spread open like the covers of a book. She half heartedly managed another quick thank you to self for wearing decent underwear. Marco leaned forward and trailed a path of kisses down her neck, pausing to nibble on her collar bone before following her bra strap down to lace forming the edge of cups. Tentatively one finger hooked under the flimsy lace and slowly pulled it down, his lips covering the newly exposed skin until they found a proud nipple.

  Damn he is good!

  She hadn’t thought it possible but her severely aroused spring was wound even tighter and the need for release was building to impossible levels.

  With urgency her fingers reached down and found the waist band of his soft, well worn jeans. In there was all the release she needed. She gasped as his mouth moved to the other breast.

  When did he find the front clip of my bra? And how did he loosen it with one hand?

  Her hips squirmed beneath his as damp spread throughout her sex. She needed release fast but was nervous as well.

  Why should I be nervous of this man?

  One of her hands found the button of his jeans and managed to undo it. The zip proved too much so she turned her attention to the hard bulge on the other side.

  Marco gasped as her hands found him through his now very stretched jeans. She stroked the full length of his manhood, each time braver than the last. He pushed his arousal into her hand on every sweep down.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to a man?” He whispered against a taut nipple.

  Empowered by his words, she stroked down once more slightly squeezing this time. All the way to the base of his manhood. Instead of coming back up this time, she reached her fingers further down and cupped his testicles, giving them a slight squeeze.

  The breath ripped from him taking his control with it. Quickly he pulled down his zip and in one move brought his jeans and his boxers to his knees. His arousal flew free and Serena wasted no time taking control of it.

  This man is beautiful and right now, this minute, he is all mine! Every solid, amazing, inch!

  She knew tomorrow she would be forgotten like all his other women, but perhaps she could finally get him out of her system now.

  She didn’t object when he snapped the narrow elastic of her panties effectively shredding the lace as well. Guiding him with her hand she lifted her hips to meet him.

  He paused at the entrance just for a moment, delaying the promise of release. Burying his head in her neck he thrust forward hard and held it there filling her completely. They both lay very still. Their breathing fast, ragged and shallow was the only thing that moved. The only noise. Then slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Marco started to move. His hips dancing a slow and beautiful salsa against hers. As cadence began to pick up, Serena pushed off the bed with her feet, matching his rhythm, pushing them both over the edge.

  The lay like that for several minutes, neither able to think or move. Marco still inside her, Serena still holding him as she felt his arousa
l calm. The Hotel phone rang in the room next door. Marco moved off her and pulled his jeans back to his hips he paused to look at her, his eyes unreadable, before he strode off to get the phone.

  Oh God I miss him already. This hasn’t worked. I want him more than ever now.

  Serena rolled to her side, and pulled the edges of his Linen shirt back around her, covering her legs as she curled into a foetal position. She sobbed quietly lost in her own sad lonely thoughts.

  Chapter thirty three

  Marco spoke briefly to the concierge and then crossed the room to let Gabrielle in. His assistant waddled through the door, with three bags of shopping and dumped them on the table next to the scattered crockery. She looked at the fallen chair then at his bare chest and grinned knowingly.

  “Have you cancelled my meetings today?” he asked her softly.

  “Yup. Georgia wasn’t happy about her review being delayed but she’ll live and that blonde bimbo you’re dating was spitting nails over the cancelled lunch..... Hang on....!” Gabrielle stood with one hand on her very pregnant bump and the other pointing a finger first at the fallen chair, then the two scattered table settings, then the bedroom door, then his bare chest. Eyes wide open she studied his forlorn face.

  “I’m guessing that’s not blonde bimbo in there?”

  Gabrielle had worked for Marco from his first day. She had huge respect for him as an employer. She was the only person in the company that could speak her mind and get away with it. When it came to his private life, she took no prisoners.

  This was the first time he actually looked ashamed and uncomfortable about her teasing.

  “Well this is a whole new level of interesting. What is she underage? Overage? Actually a bloke?”

  Shaking his head, Marco walked past Gabrielle to the little kitchen area. “It’s Serena.” He said quietly.

  “Oh. Oooooh!” Said Gabrielle understanding.

  Marco had been a nightmare for well over six months when Serena ran. There had been a lot of gossip but no one had figured out why she left so suddenly. She could tell he was torn and confused. For a man who was always in such control it was hard to see him like this.

  “Well I’ve brought the clothes and toiletries you asked for. You said you might need me to pick someone up?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll handle it. Thanks Gabby.”

  “No sweat boss. And Marco...” She said half way to the door. “Keep the door locked.”

  Marco stood in the kitchenette staring at the door Gabrielle had just closed, deep in thought. He felt more empty than he had ever felt in his life. Even more than when Serena disappeared from his life.

  She deserves better than me. What the hell have I done? As if she doesn’t have enough trouble with that kid she is with. Serena deserves better than both of us. Marcus thought sullenly .Knowing he would have to deal with her eventually he picked up the shopping bags and went back to the bedroom. His heart stopped when he saw her lying there, curled up in a tight ball with her back to him.

  Shit!

  He put the bags down on the dresser and tentatively sat on the edge of the bed behind her.

  “Serena?” His hand paused mid-air, not sure if he should touch her or not.

  Serena didn’t answer. He moved around to the other side of the bed where he could see her properly. She looked asleep. Her cheeks were damp and her eyelashes were clumped together with moisture. She had been crying. Then he noticed it. It was small. The faintest of little movements, ticking like the second hand of a clock. One of her legs was twitching.

  “Serena?” he called shaking her gently.

  Deeply worried now he did the only thing he could think of. He phoned Revel. Very quickly he tracked down Serena’s assistant and pried her doctors’ details from her.

  Idly he thought to tell Serena to fire her assistant. She couldn’t be trusted with private information.

  Then he got the doctors receptionist on the line and coerced her into putting Serena’s doctor on the phone. Without giving much in the way of reason, he demanded that the doctor drop everything and come to the hotel immediately to attend to Serena. He had noted that the surgery was not far from the hotel. At least the Doctor wouldn’t be long. He threw on a shirt and looked for something to cover her, without disturbing her by pulling blankets out from under her. He settled on a large bath towel.

  Checking the time he phoned the concierge and advised him that he was waiting for an Englishman by the name of Doctor Roberts and the Concierge was to see him up as swiftly as possible.

  With nothing left to do, he sat in the chair beside the bed and watched Serena, just like he had watched her all night.

  Serena woke to raised male voices in the room next door.

  “Mr. Spinozzi, I promise you Serena is out the woods, but I can’t and won’t discuss the details of her condition with you. You are not a relative and I have to consider patient confidentiality.”

  “Doctor, I am already aware of the ‘treatment’ Serena underwent. But that was weeks ago. Surely she should have fully recovered by now. This is just not right!” Suddenly Marco paled. Oh God. I didn’t think. What if I was too rough with her and hurt her. Shit so soon after an abortion. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! I should have realised something like that can tear a woman up inside.

  “

  Hello Dr. Robinson.” “Serena.”

  “It’s alright, I’ll handle this.”

  The doctor raised his eyebrows at her. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s fine then Serena. I’ll see you at your next appointment?”

  Serena was about to nod again when Marco interrupted.

  “Sorry Dr. Robinson, but I must ask you to stay.” Marco looked at both of them. Serena shrugged and pulled the silk sheet she had pilfered from the bed tightly around her. She made herself comfortable on one of the sofas, tucking her legs under her for comfort. The Doctor, frowning, followed and lowered himself into an armchair.

  When it became clear that Serena was not going to start until Marco sat down, he reluctantly perched himself on the edge of the coffee table.

  “

  First Dr. Robinson, I am so sorry that you were dragged into this. Along with an entire catalogue of other faults, Marco can be very persistent.” “Marco. I am not pregnant.”

  “I know.” Said Marco cautiously. “I know about the abortion.”

  Both Serena and the doctor gaped at him.

  What? Is that what he thinks? I could never! I’m I wasn’t even....but even if I was...!

  Serena’s eyes brimmed with tears. The Dr. Robinson, looked incredulously from Serena to Marco and back again.

  “Serena? Is there something I should know?”

  She shook her head ashamed.

  He really does think very little of me doesn’t he!

  Marco was more concerned than ever now. Dr. Robinson had been treating her for an illness that was apparently healing now, but appeared to know nothing about the abortion. She must have asked the kids doctor to do. He didn’t know much about medicine, but experience with both his parents had taught him about the importance of medical history. Serena’s Medical history was now spread out across Italy and doctors were treating her without knowing everything there was to know. It was dangerous.

  Unhappily he saw the Doctor out and turned to study the small figure curled up on the sofa.

  “I don’t know what is going on here Serena, but you are playing a very dangerous game. There are some clothes in the shopping bags through there.” He said pointing to the bedroom. “Get dressed and I’ll take you home.”

  They spoke only to confirm the address of Serena’s flat. The rest of the drive was made in silence. The buildings doorman opened her door and let her out when they got there and she didn’t look back. Marco drove away in silence.

  Chapter thirty four

  It was well into the end of October and Josephine was concerned about Serena. Whilst Serena was certainly a lot healthier physic
ally, which everyone was grateful for; it was the general opinion in the studio that someone had given Serena a partial brain transplant. In particular, the part of the brain controlling rational thought and emotional control. Since returning to work her moods had swung dramatically and frequently and always to the extreme.

  Serena would arrive at Revel in the morning, two to three hours earlier than she needed to. Start off the day quiet and sullen, snapping when disturbed. Then by lunch time she would wonder off somewhere and Jo would find her hiding in an empty room or on the fire escape or the ladies room, crying. Jo would sit with her a while waiting for her to talk, but Serena would just wipe her eyes when she had enough, nod at Jo in thanks for the company and walk back to work. By the end of the day, Serena would be spitting nails and her assistant and several apprentices would be the ones hiding in various locations crying.

  Then she would work two hours late before Marie would insist it was time to go home. No one ever saw her eat.

  That just covered the emotional. The list of irrational behaviour was even longer. This morning Jo had come in to find Serena with her hair wept back into a bun, a smidge of make up on, a pearl choker over a burgundy polo neck sweater and a pair of suede boots, Jo had bought her last winter. If it weren’t for the trademark sour face and the yellow, brushed cotton Pyjama pants, Serena would have looked fabulous.

  “Well at least she is predictable.” Said Jo to Serena’s assistant. “I give her ten minutes and she’ll be crying somewhere.”

  “Can’t we just give her a bit of time off?”

  “I did.”

  “What happened?”

  “She still came to work. She used to tell me stuff. Now she has just closed herself off. I can get through to her.”

  “Does her mother have any ideas?”

  “Nope. She says she has spoken to Serena on the phone but Serena insists everything is fine.”

  “Well clearly it’s not.”

  “Clearly but if she can’t ask for help, there is not a lot of help that can be given.”

  Jo excused herself and went in search of her friend and best designer. She found her sitting on an upside down waste paper basket in the cutting room. Box of tissues in hand, Jo ignored the scraps of fabric and stray cotton threads that she knew would stick like a magnet to her clothes, and sat down on the floor in front of her friend. She held out the tissues like a peace offering.

 

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