Feeling White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “We’ll see ourselves out, Pauline. Thank you for your time.”

  “Yes, thank you. It’s such a positive environment and such a deserving charity. I feel honoured to have been here,” Elizabeth said to her as they walked outside again.

  “You’re quite lovely, Elizabeth. Please be good to him. We all love him very much, regardless of how little he thinks he deserves it,” Pauline said as she shook her hand and looked at him. He flinched at her words but regained himself quickly. “We’ll see you again soon.” She nodded at them both and with a wave of her hand, disappeared into the gardens.

  “It appears everyone’s in love with you, Mr. White. I shall have to keep my guard up,” her lovely mouth said as she linked her arm through his. He frowned and walked them away to the safety of the car. There was no one there to fuck with his mind, only her, and she was allowed. Well, on his terms anyway. Who was he fucking kidding? She was so far in his mind that he hadn’t got a hope of deflecting her. He didn’t even think he wanted to anymore.

  ~

  She was upstairs in the shower and he couldn’t make up his mind whether to go and get her or if he should do the work that he should have done all day. He’d dismissed phone calls all day just to be with her, just to give her the support she needed. Her family were undoubtedly some of the best people on the planet, and that her mother would be struck again with cancer was just abhorrent. He reached for his phone and sent a quick email to his doctor. The woman would get the best. It was as much as he could do for her. That and be there for Elizabeth.

  He sighed and looked at his desk, then at the bookcase. That’s where it had all started. He relived the moment with alarming clarity when she had ground onto his leg and made herself come as he’d held her against the shelves. He walked across to see if divine intervention had put her in that spot or if it had just been him. The first book he found with his hand was a collection of John Keats’ poetic works. He chuckled and pulled it from the shelf to lay it on his desk. The melancholic poet was an overly dramatic, love-sick puppy, but his choice of wording was exemplary most of the time. Perhaps he would read it in a different light this time round and actually feel some of the sentiment involved.

  He clicked on his laptop and was instantly bombarded with several hundred emails that should have been answered or at least looked at. He shook his head and closed the bloody thing. He couldn’t concentrate on anything, let alone deal with it. He would be meeting his half sister tomorrow and he still didn’t know how he felt about it. He assumed she would either know by now who he was or she would currently be having a conversation with her mother about her rapist father, his rapist father.

  Soft tinkling lifted his head from his thoughts and he realised she was in the music room. He smiled and walked into the lounge to get some brandy. The tones of Clair de Lune echoed along the corridor and he frowned in confusion. Why would she play that? He hadn’t heard her play since he behaved like a dick. She must have the same feelings regarding the piece as he had now. It haunted him with bad feelings and he only remembered watching her as he’d cursed her for being a whore.

  Clearly she wasn’t and could never be, but the memory of that night was implanted nonetheless and he knew she would be thinking about it while she played. He wandered along the corridor with two full glasses of amber nutrition and was completely thrown as he turned the corner into the doorway. There she sat, in his shirt again, the dull glow of the lamp behind her again. It was as if he had been transported back to that night again. Everything was the same apart for his feelings this time. She looked across at him and smiled as her fingers traversed the keys.

  “Come sit with me,” she said as she stopped abruptly. “I want you to take away the memories.”

  He hesitated for a second. He had no idea why, but the vision of her sitting there was so captivating that for some reason he felt like moving toward her would be intruding or something equally rude. She held out her hand and beckoned him. His feet moved without him asking them to and before he knew, it he was sitting behind her, burying his face in her hair. She shifted forward a bit to make room and began to play again from the beginning. Time stood still as he listened to her and felt her body moving beneath his hold, kissing her lightly and moving her hair out of the way so he could watch her fingers. She was everything to him. He knew he had to find something to take this away from them and as she began to sniff with emotion, he felt his own throat constrict.

  “I love you,” he said as he moved his hands to her thighs and let his fingers trace patterns in her skin. “I never loved until you, and I will never love anyone but you.” She missed a key and fumbled to get the flow of the music back. “I was a fool and will spend the rest of my life showing you everything that you deserve from me. I’ll give you all that I am and hope that you can give me half as much in return, because you are my air, baby. You have my heart, my soul and my body. It’s all for you if you want it. You can take it and do with it as you wish.” She stumbled again at the mention of her own words and stopped, her fingers trembling as she inhaled sharply.

  “I...”

  “Keep playing, baby, or play something else. Help me find another way to tell you this.”

  She placed her hands over the keys and he felt his breath shudder at the thought of what piece would conjure up the right emotion for her. If she could only feel his own sense of hope and peacefulness around her, maybe she would be able to understand the depth of his commitment. “I love you. Make this go away for both of us.”

  She tinkled over the keys a few times and then shook her head and got up. He raised an eyebrow at her and watched as she walked around behind him.

  “Turn around,” she said softly in that beautiful voice of hers as she sniffed again and picked up her drink. He moved his legs around to face her and looked at her mouth as she drank half the glass. Surprising the hell out of him, she clambered astride him and fidgeted him backwards until she could reach the piano again. His fingers wrapped around her hipbones as he looked into her eyes. They still ripped him to shreds and he struggled to hold her gaze. She pushed herself as close to him as possible and ground down onto him as she stretched around him and began to play again. He smiled into her shoulder as the familiar notes of the same piece filtered into the air around them. For good or bad, Clair de Lune was going to be their music. It was his job to make it beautiful again. Perhaps it was only right that the piece had taken them through bad and good times.

  He moved her hair again and kissed her throat as she found her way around his body, her groin moving across him and pressing onto his dick with fevered intensity. He unbuttoned his shirt and hers so he could feel her skin on him, which instantly electrified the air around them and had her moaning into him. Fuck, he loved that sound. He wanted inside of her immediately. He moved her around until he could pull himself free of his jeans and moved his hand to the side of her panties. She moaned again as he ripped the sides apart and discarded them, her fingers flinching at the keys as he lifted her up and pushed her down on top of his waiting cock.

  Discordant notes rang into the air as they both tried to find their positions and adjust to the intensity of being together. He swallowed at the warmth of her sweetness wrapped around him and buried his head into her neck.

  “Fuck, you feel good,” he growled as he pulled her closer. She moaned and pushed down on him.

  “Make love to me, Alex. Show me how you feel.”

  Christ, he loved hearing her say that. He slowly exhaled as she found her rhythm again and he started to move her gently backwards and forwards on top of him. Every stroke nearly had him exploding like a fucking teenager. The sound of the music and her heavy breathing only increased his desire to grab her and throw her on the ground, but in this moment, he was holding on so tightly that he never wanted to let go. His fingers dug into her back and pulled her closer to him as she squirmed to reach around him and find the notes she wanted.

  “More,” she moaned as he increased the friction and
she rubbed herself on him. He moved to get a better angle and drove in hard. “Yes. Oh god, I love you,” she hissed at him as her breathing started becoming erratic. He kissed his way up her neck and continued with his more forceful thrusts as the piece escalated. She matched his passion and drew her face back to look at him, stilling the keys.

  “Don’t stop playing, baby,” he panted in roughened breaths as he gazed into her eyes and tried to show her all she wanted. She kept pushing into him and moaned out his name again as she trembled above him and fumbled the notes.

  “I can’t reach the-”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Keep playing,” he growled, watching her captivating face as she began her spiral. Her lips parted, and that iridescent blush rose across her chest and neck beautifully as she tried to keep playing behind him. “Come, baby. Let it go for me,” he said as he felt his own release building, thickening within her. Her muscles clamped around him and he couldn’t stop the need to kiss the living hell out of her so he grabbed her face and slammed his mouth over hers. Her fingers were pulled from the keys but frankly he couldn’t give a damn. She moaned into his mouth as she came hard around him and pulsated on him. It was enough for him to lose control and he let go seconds after her as she wrapped her arms around him and they rode out their moment in ecstasy together. Always together. Christ, he’d die without her.

  He palmed her backside in his hands and kept grinding her into him with steadier pulls as he explored her mouth with his tongue and affirmed his need to stay connected to her. He hadn’t got a fucking clue where that need came from but he knew he couldn’t be without it and revelled in the feeling of her sliding up and down on him as he pulsed inside her. She eventually broke the kiss and gazed at him with a smile. He exhaled slowly as he tried to find some air again. She always managed to make him lose his ability to breathe or find it again so he listened to her as she tried to do the same and grinned at her. It was more than likely a fucking sappy grin, but he didn’t give a shit. She did this to him, and he actually quite liked it.

  “Maybe we could practice that again,” she said as she giggled and ran her fingers through his hair. He loved that as well, her hands in his hair. He’d never allowed a woman that before.

  “Often, I would hope,” he replied, still grinning like a fool.

  “We might even make it to the end of the piece one day.”

  “I highly fucking doubt it, but I’m happy to keep trying. Would you like another go now?” He twitched his hardening dick in her and she laughed. That wasn’t the correct response so he picked her up and growled. She laughed again and much as he wanted to slam her against the wall, he smiled and took them over to the sofa by way of the brandy glasses. She grabbed them.

  They’d been sat there gazing at each other for about five minutes when the doorbell rang. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she quickly began to do up her shirt, or rather his shirt.

  “If we have guests, baby, you’ll be doing more than buttoning up my shirt. For a start, you’ll need underwear,” he said as he stood up. “Wait here. I’ll see who it is.”

  He walked out and found Conner opening the door in front of him. He narrowed his eyes at the thought of him having a key. He’d never given a shit whether he’d walked in before because there had never been a woman here before but now. Well, they could have been up to anything, anywhere.

  “Wait longer next time,” he snarled as he approached him. Conner’s eyes widened a bit as he halted his movements.

  “Shit, man, I didn’t think. I’m all over the fucking shop. Jesus, did I interrupt something?” he replied as he glanced at his open shirt. Alex chuckled and ducked his head back into the music room.

  “It’s Conner, baby. We’ll go into the lounge. Go get dressed.” Conner’s smirk was clearly uncontainable and Alex pointed a finger in the direction of the lounge with another snarl. “Don’t be a sick fucker, Avery.” Conner ambled his way in front of him with a frown and turned into the room without looking back. Good fucking job, too, because Alex couldn’t stop watching her backside ascending the stairs with a lack of underwear. She giggled all the way and he shook his head at his own possessiveness as he headed for his friend.

  “I am sorry, man. I’ll ring next time,” Conner said quietly as he poured himself a drink and then threw a log on the fire. Alex tilted his head at him as he sat and wondered what was wrong while he watched him pace about. Conner wasn’t a pacer. He sipped his brandy and waited.

  “What do you think about marriage?” Conner suddenly asked out of the blue. He was so taken aback he didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to try but Conner stopped him. “I mean, she won’t move in with me and I don’t know what else to do so I bought this and now I don’t know if I should or not,” he said as he held up a small, square, red box. “Would you? Do you think it’s too soon? It’s too soon, isn’t it?” Alex smirked at him and watched him continue to pace around. The man was being hilarious. He opened his mouth once more, but Conner started again. “I think she needs this from me. I adore her. She’s fucking insane and I don’t know if I can keep her or not, but I just want her with me, like all the fucking time, and I’m seriously all over the place about this. I mean, it’s marriage, Alex, like kids and shit, and I don’t know if I can do that yet.” He eventually flopped himself down into a chair and stared at the fire.

  Alex watched him to see if there was anything else coming as Conner took the box out and opened it to gaze at the stunning ring, Alex couldn’t stop the whistle that rang out of his mouth at the clearly very expensive piece of Cartier.

  “Do you think she’ll like it?”

  “I have no idea. Perhaps you should ask her and find out,” Alex replied as he sipped his brandy again. He hadn’t got a clue what else to say. The fact was that if Conner was thinking he wanted to do this then he probably did, “What do you want me to help you with?”

  “I don’t know. I just want to be sure it’s the right thing to do. I have blue fucking hair, man. Is that what married people look like? I haven’t got the slightest bloody idea what a married man should look like. Most of them look as depressed as fuck from what I’ve seen. And what if she says no? Shit, I’ll die if she says no.”

  “I doubt she’ll say no, Conner. She loves you,” came drifting from the back of the room. Alex smirked again as Conner’s hands fumbled with the box and his eyes shot to hers almost in terror.

  Perfect fucking timing.

  “Beth, shit, you weren’t supposed to see this. How could I have forgotten you were here? Oh, for Christ’s sake, now I’ve royally screwed this up,” he said with an exasperated sigh as he pocketed the box and stood up for another drink. She headed across to him and Alex gazed at her effortless grace as she filled her glass and then sneaked a hand into his pocket to retrieve the ring box without him noticing, Alex grinned across at her and tutted with a shake of his head.

  “Naughty,” he said quietly. She giggled as she ambled her way back across to him and sat on the floor, leaning her head back between his legs. He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his fingers in her hair and fanning it out over his thigh as she opened the box and gasped aloud at the sight of the rubies and diamonds.

  “Oh my, that is quite a ring,” she exclaimed. Conner’s eyes shot across to her as he patted his pocket wildly.

  “Jesus, Beth, how the hell did you get that?”

  “Pesky fairies.” Alex chuckled as he thought of pick-pocketing in his youth. She would have made a superb accomplice. He stroked her hair and watched her gazing at the ring in adoration. Regardless of her thoughts on overly priced gifts, she clearly liked the connotation of this one.

  “Conner, do you love her?” she asked as she closed the box and placed it on the table with a small sigh.

  “Of course I do. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, I’m sorry. It’s just that she’s my sister and I need to know that this is serious and not just because she won’t do as you want her to. Belle is
the way she is for a good reason and no amount of manipulation will make her change. I need to know that you love her exactly the way she is. She’s been through enough without you adding to it.”

  “I don’t even know what to say to that. You think I’d do this if I wasn’t happy with exactly who she is?” he replied as his hands flew around. Alex smiled at his agitation. He couldn’t help it; it amused him to see Conner edgy and frustrated.

  “She won’t move in with you because she’s scared, Conner. Has she told you anything about Marcus?” His mouth snarled at the mention of another man’s name and Alex noticed his temper flare across his features. It wasn’t quite so amusing anymore.

  “No. Who the fuck is Marcus?” he said angrily as he stomped across and towered above them.

  “Calm down, Conner. If Elizabeth is trying to help you then I suggest you listen and take notes. Are you both hungry? Chinese okay for everybody?” he said as he stood up and glared at Conner. Conner drew in a long breath and removed his jacket.

  “Yes, thank you. Sorry, Beth, I’m a dick. Who’s Marcus?”

  He walked out of the room and into the kitchen to retrieve his phone as he heard her saying the name Marcus Renfield. Whatever she was about to tell Conner was more than likely not good so he called in the take out and scrolled through his messages for a few minutes to give them some privacy. They were all fucking boring apart from some business that Louisa had asked for. He quickly sent some replies and then noticed one from Pascal. He didn’t even know if he wanted to open it. His finger hovered as he pictured the two of them dancing and remembered her words of Pascal’s love for him. He couldn’t stop his thumb moving.

  - Alexander, I am bored to death without you. Why do you punish me with your absence?