Bubbles
and water again. A different sort, but also a lovely way to end
the day. Bubbles tiny as pin pricks, scattered through liquid the
color of late summer straw, rising fast to the surface, lingering
in the meniscus with tension mounting, then popping into nothingness
into the air. Water cold as a high mountain stream, or maybe the
arctic, ice floes waging a game but losing battle against dissolution,
drawing the moisture out of the night air and leaving it draped,
wet and sloppy, around the outside of the glass.
Alexis
took a sip of water, then of champagne, and set the two glasses
down on the broad stone railing that ran the length of the balcony.
Bubbles and water brought an evening of dancing to a very civilized
conclusion. The ice water cooled the core and replenished fluids
lost to the light exertion of talk and dancing; the champagne added
festivity, a current of possibility, summoning spirits of romance
with the dance it did down the throat. But this particular day wouldn't
end with bubbles and water; at least, not yet. Alexis was quite
certain now, and eager, that this day would end with something much
less civilized involving the man at her side.
It
had been a lovely, civilized, even joyful evening of dancing. She
didn't dwell on how unlikely it was: Lorenzo Alcazar, of all people.
They had talked and teased and flirted as they danced to the orchestra's
music, laughing easily with the lightness she had always resisted
with him. They smiled happily at each other, true smiles of affection,
for once not dimmed by the shadows of conscience and restraint and
regret. Somehow the tumult and worry and angst of their past and
present had melted away, as if vanquished by Alexis's decision,
or by their shared certainty about what would come next, or maybe
just by some fortuitous bit of psychological congruence. They had
danced, more slow than fast, for as long as Alexis could tolerate
on her tender ankle and ambitious shoes, and then Lorenzo had led
her out onto the balcony where they swayed slowly under the night
sky. When a waiter passed by with glasses of champagne and ice water,
they had finally untangled themselves to sip and moved to the quieter
shadows at the far end of the balcony. Desire was a low murmur in
the air, audible but not overwhelming.
Lorenzo
sipped appreciatively from his ice water, a light sheen of perspiration
dampening his forehead, and set his glass down beside the others.
Her eyes caught his, and they both broke into sly smiles at some
shared joke neither could manage to articulate, much as they had
been making each other grin and laugh for the last hour and a half.
For now they played at civilization, in their pretty clothes with
their pretty manners and a mysterious patience bestowed on them
by some unknown benefactor, but eventually they would throw off
the veneer and the clothes and engage in something primitive, something
as elemental as hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen. No, not just eventually,
Alexis corrected, watching too intently as Lorenzo's fingers moved
over the buttons of his jacket, unfastening them in an easy, offhand
manner. Soon. Soon this forceful, highly sexual man would take her
to bed. The anticipation made her ache.
Pulling
her eyes away from the delicate mastery of his indelicate hands,
Alexis looked over the balcony at Lafayette Square and the glowing
White House beyond. She shivered lightly as the cooling night air
brought a chill to bare skin that had previously been warmed from
within by the heat generated between their bodies. Lorenzo wrapped
his arms around her waist from behind and leaned his head over her
shoulder. Chilly?
Alexis
shrugged slightly and brushed her cheek against Lorenzos.
Not when you hold me.
He
moved his arms higher, hugging her tight, enveloping her bare shoulders
and arms as best he could. He adored everything about the dress
she wore the drifting silk that clung to every curve, the
deep red that brought out the flush in her cheeks and the fire in
her eyes, and of course the enticing slit running from the floor
so very high up her thigh but most of all he adored the deep
V of the neckline, which left her so bare and necessitated that
he share his warmth with her. "I'm terribly gluttonous, you
know."
She
looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "How so?"
He
tipped his head down just a bit and brushed his lips against the
softness of her cheek. "Yesterday, the day before, every day
before that I can remember, I wanted to hold you. A few seconds
would have been enough. Just a taste of you in my arms would have
made me happy. Now here I've been holding you all evening, gorging
myself on you."
"And
have you spoiled your appetite?" she teased. "Lost your
taste for me?"
"Not
at all." His eyes sparkled with a smile that began somewhere
deep inside. "To the contrary, every second I've held you has
been delicious and satisfying, and well-appreciated. It's just that
I'm still so hungry. I want more and more." The last words
were murmured into her ear.
The
tickle of his breath made her draw her shoulder to her ear, and
she turned her head to meet his eyes. "It's nice to indulge
sometimes," she said quietly.
He
felt a shiver run through her and rubbed his hands up and down her
bare arms. "Are you sure you wouldn't like my jacket?"
"No,
I'm okay. The air is nice." She nodded toward the White House.
Theres just something about the way Washington feels
at night that always gives me a little chill. All that crisp alabaster
and the soft yellow lights. Its stirring, even to a cynic
like me. Even the air feels softer down here, though I suppose thats
just the swamp.
Lorenzo
laughed lightly in her ear. Unfortunately, all those yellow
lights and the moist air also mean lousy stargazing. You asked for
dancing beneath the stars, but Ive failed.
Alexis
leaned her head back against Lorenzos shoulder and scanned
the sky. She pointed up. There. Theres a star.
I
think thats an airplane.
No,
its a star.
Its
moving, Alexis. I think it just landed at National. I can see them
unloading the luggage now.
Alexis
raised her hand over her shoulder and patted Lorenzo gently on the
cheek. No, its a star, she insisted. Close
your eyes. She brushed her fingers over his eyes and began
to sway gently. The sky is full of stars. I can see billions
and billions of little spots of light, so many its like a
blanket on the sky. I can see the line of the Milky Way right over
there. Lorenzo tried to look, but Alexis covered his eyes
more firmly. Do you see?
Lorenzo
nodded. Yeah, I see it. All that ancient light.
Alexis
smiled, pleased. Mm-hmm. Its been traveling millions
of years to get here. To our little planet. At this moment in time.
This blink of an eye in the vast expanse of time when there are
people here to see it, this one instant when you and I are here
to see it. She turned around to face Lorenzo and wrapped her
arms around his waist, leaning against his chest and tucking herself
inside his jacket. None of the rest really matters, right?
Not money and legacies, not governments and their laws. Just two
people holding on to each other. Not alone.
Lorenzo's
arms tightened around her, pulling her close to his chest, and he
nodded just a bit, solemnly, something like a smile tugging at the
corners of his mouth. He pressed a kiss to the top of her hair.
"None of the rest matters," he agreed softly. After a
moment, he loosened his hold, put his fingers to her chin and tipped
her head up.
Alexis
met his kiss and closed her eyes. His lips were soft and hot and
clung to hers as he kissed her. He buried his hands in her hair
and kissed her slowly and patiently, tasting champagne on her lips
and her tongue, exploring every corner of her lips and every bit
of her mouth. She offered him whatever access he sought, letting
his heat and power flow through her at all the places where they
touched. All of her resistance was gone now.
Alexis
knew what it was to be left dizzy by lack of air, but this was different.
This was swooning, she thought idly, as the world twirled about
her and her legs grew weak and she melted into him. Though her body
was flush to his, and his warmth and solidity filled her encircling
arms, he seemed to be spinning with her and so was a dragging anchor.
She reached for the balcony railing with one hand to steady herself
and held tight to it as Lorenzo kissed her again and again.
They
stood there kissing for what seemed like hours, taking their fill
of a simple pleasure previously sampled only in servings that were
too small and too fraught. Alexis's hands remained resolutely still,
one gripping the railing, the other loose at Lorenzo's waist. He
kept his hand curved around the nape of her neck, framing her for
his kisses, while the other traveled a modest path up and down her
back, never pulling, never insistent. Each kiss was a gentle bellows
blow to a smoldering fire, raising the flames until they finally
burned too hot and out of control.
Well-behaved
hands grew greedy, and kisses grew urgent. Lorenzo's palm slipped
low on her back and pulled her closer, hard against him, as he delved
deep into her mouth. Alexis relinquished her grip on the railing
and grabbed his shirt instead, driven again now to merge him into
her. He pressed her up indecently against the balcony wall, and
his fingers sought out the gap in her dress, retracing their earlier
path up her thigh and again finding bare skin and lace, eliciting
a soft moan from her lips. The moan became a pleading whimper as
his thumb slipped for just an instant under the upper line of lace,
sweeping over delicate skin in a fiery curve, before his hand settled
somewhat more discreetly at the back of her thigh. As his mouth
ventured down the length of her neck, past implicit boundaries,
she slid her knee immodestly up the inside of his leg, absorbing
his responsive groan, and then pulled away enough to whisper in
his ear. "Now. Take me to bed."
They
gathered themselves and walked back inside hand in hand. They managed
a quick goodbye to John Schaeffer and the others remaining at their
table, the dinner companions they had neglected all evening, with
obligatory avowals of how wonderful it was to get together and perfunctory
promises to keep in touch made to faces that were just a blur. Alexis
retrieved her handbag and throw, and they walked to the door, about-to-be-lovers
trailed by five sets of knowing and envious eyes.
Once
outside the ballroom doors they drew back into a kiss, fervent from
the start, tongues tangling and teeth nipping, hands pushing and
pulling, bodies pressed against each other. They circled around
and around each other until they came to a stop against a wall,
Lorenzo pressing hard up against Alexis and feasting on her neck.
Te amo, te amo, he whispered into her, his mouth trailing
along her collarbone until she moaned. He took her by the hand and
led her farther down the empty hallway, trying to get to the elevator,
but they didnt make it far before she pulled him back to her
and they were at it again, kissing and touching and pulling and
pushing and circling until Lorenzos back slammed into a wall
and she pressed her body up against him. Te amo, he
said again, and she stood on tiptoes to capture his soft mouth and
sweet words, which penetrated now but somehow didn't frighten her.
When they paused for breath, gasping, they grinned at each other,
and set off down the hallway again hand in hand, making it into
the elevator this time before collapsing against a wall as the doors
closed.
With
Alexis kissing him roughly, biting his lip, and her hand bullying
its way inside the front of his still-fastened trousers, Lorenzo
reached for the elevator panel. He pressed three wrong buttons before
finding the one for the third floor, and the old elevator made its
way slowly downstairs. Each time the elevator came to a stop and
the doors opened on a new floor, Alexis and Lorenzo tried to pull
away from each other and stand discreetly side by side, but the
stops were excruciatingly long and each time they ended up tangled
again before the doors closed. Finally the doors opened on the third
floor and they stumbled out.
Lorenzo
took one look down the length of the hallway they had to traverse,
and one look back at Alexis, wild and beautiful, his own hunger
reflected in her eyes, and he swept her up in his arms. They had
to speed things up. He carried her down the hall to the door to
his suite, kissing her feverishly as he went, then set her down
and, still kissing her, fumbled in vain for the key. As Lorenzo's
frustration mounted and he pulled away from Alexis to focus on his
search, Marcus appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and held up a
key.
"Everything
quiet?" Lorenzo asked, standing back as Marcus swiftly unlocked
the door.
Marcus
noted the claiming arm Alexis had casually thrown around Lorenzo's
waist under his jacket. "Yes, sir," he answered, pushing
the door open.
Lorenzo
nodded and let Alexis walk into the room ahead of him. "No
interruptions," he instructed Marcus, his voice quiet but unmistakably
serious.
Marcus
hesitated an instant, his hand reaching for the envelope he carried
in his pocket but then drawing back. "Of course, sir,"
he nodded.
Lorenzo
stepped into the room in time to see Alexis disappear into the bathroom.
He closed the door behind him and moved through the suite, adjusting
lights and curtains, turning on soft jazz, feeling for a moment
like some teenage lothario trying to score on prom night. As he
hung his jacket on the back of a chair, a pair of slender arms wrapped
around him from behind, hands slipping between the buttons of his
shirt, fingers trailing over the hard muscles of his stomach, and
he felt the soft heat of Alexis's womanly body pressed against his
back through thin layers of cotton and silk.
Lorenzo
cleared his throat roughly. "I was thinking about ordering
room service. Do you want anything? Food, champagne?"
He
could feel her shaking her head against his back. She scraped her
nails lightly over his stomach. "Just you," she said,
her voice impossibly husky.
His
breath caught, and he pulled her hands away, turning swiftly and
catching her face in his hands. He kissed her hard, and they were
both lost again. Her hands grabbed his shirt, his waistband, anything
for support, and they circled and stumbled until they hit the bed
and fell onto it, Alexis on her back and Lorenzo hard on top of
her.
For
a moment they just looked at each other, wide-eyed and panting,
utterly surrendered to the command of their bodies and the need
to be joined, their muddled brains trying to figure out what had
to be done next to make that happen. The position was right, but
there were clothes in the way. Somehow they were both still fully
dressed. Despite their stumbling, giddy, greedy journey to the hotel
room, hands had been too crazed to master the intricacies of ties
and buttons and zippers. But now the clothes had to come off. They
had to be naked. They would have to slow down. Think. Not get carried
away. Lorenzo felt the nervousness sweep through Alexis's body beneath
him.
He
leaned back on his heels, surveying her dress and summoning the
self-control he would need to get it off without wrecking it, but
Alexis moved away. She sat up and drew her knees to her chest, watching
him warily, her lower lip pulled between her teeth. A frown passed
over her face, and she moved to the edge of the bed and onto her
feet. Her back was to him, and for a long, agonizing moment Lorenzo
watched her shoulders rise and fall, rise and fall, in deep, unsteady
breaths. Finally she turned around and extended her hand to him,
her eyes inching up to meet his. Lorenzo took her hand and stood
in front of her, and their eyes met in consultation. She licked
her lips and smiled briefly, tightly, and gave the smallest nod.
Fighting
the sense that she was falling into Lorenzo's eyes, Alexis took
a steadying breath and reached for his collar. With trembling hands,
she began unknotting his black tie. Lorenzo placed his hands over
hers, stilling them. Your hands are shaking. Are you frightened?
Alexis
shook her head, but her words were an affirmation. I feel
like Im about to fall. Or jump."
Lorenzo
brought her hands to his lips and kissed them gently. I know.
Its like standing at the edge of the world. All that promise
and terror.
Alexis
nodded her head nervously, trying to control her breathing. "It's
easier when we're carried away, out of control. It's hard to do
this calmly."
"If
you're not sure ---"
"I'm
sure," she interrupted. "I want this. I can't not do this.
I'm just scared."
"Of
what?"
Alexis
shook her head, struggling for words. What was she scared of? Loosening
her grip on the feelings she'd been holding inside for so long?
Being overwhelmed by her response to him? Unleashing all of Lorenzo's
volatile energy and power and facing the full force of this confident,
demanding, sexually aggressive man? Being disappointed? Disappointing
him?
"Everything,"
she said shakily.
"Of
me?"
"Mostly
I'm scared of how much I want this. How much I feel. I'm scared
of feeling this way about you, of all people. I don't know where
the escape hatch is."
Lorenzo
smiled softly and pressed his lips to her furrowed brow. "I
won't hurt you, Alexis. I won't do anything to make you regret this."
Alexis
grimaced painfully. "I know better than to believe people who
say that to me."
Lorenzo
brushed his fingers down her cheek, trying to wipe away the worry
etched on her face, and placed a kiss on her lips. "Close your
eyes," he instructed softly. Alexis met his piercing gaze for
a moment, finding reassurance in the warmth she found there. She
let her eyelids fall. Lorenzo pressed the palm of his hand to her
belly. "Breathe slowly and let the feelings wash over you."
Alexis
took a deep breath, and the warmth of Lorenzos hand on her
belly spread through her, making her head swim. "I'm --- I
feel dizzy."
"Like
you can feel the earth hurtling through space?"
"Maybe.
Yes."
"Do
you see the stars? Look at them, mi amor. They're all around us.
Can you see them?"
"Yes,"
Alexis murmured, smiling softly. "Nothing but darkness and
millions of little lights. I can't feel the ground."
"Just
hold onto me, Alexis. Hold on tight. I've got you. I promise I won't
let you fall."
Alexis
opened her eyes slowly and met Lorenzo's familiar gaze again. So
familiar. From that very first day at his house, the first time
she saw in his eyes compassion and not contempt, when he was unknown,
still a stranger to her, there was something so familiar about his
eyes. So different, yet somehow like looking into her own.
She
stole a glance at the mirror on the wall. Her own eyes were dark
and burning, her skin was flushed, and her breathing was slow but
rough with nervous excitement. Different, yet familiar. And that
was how he made her feel. The emotions and desires he lured from
their lair deep inside her, the fury he unleashed -- it was all
new and unwieldy, powerful and frightening, yet deeply familiar.
And strangely, unexpectedly peaceful. Maybe there was a real self
underneath all those layers of façade. Maybe Luke was right.
With
one last slow, shaky breath, Alexis leapt. She held out her hands
to Lorenzo, and when he offered his own in return she wrapped her
fingers tight around his and pulled him close. She raised up on
her toes and kissed him, tentative at first, and then slow and sure
and sensual. She pulled his hands behind her back, and when Lorenzo
followed her lead and locked his arms around her, she moved her
hands back to his tie, steady and quick this time. She didn't look
down.
(Note:
Chapter 50B, and chapter 51 are too "sexy" for a public
board. Those interested and of age (over 18) can inquire about the
missing chapters at Odi
Et Amo. E-mail me for
more details.)