The Blackwell Lessons (11 page)

32

‘Hey!’ Nadia shouts, peering into the car. ‘Sophia. I meant tell you before – drinks tonight, okay? At the Peacock Lounge. To celebrate the first day of shooting.’ She turns to Marc. ‘You don’t mind do you Marc? Losing your leading lady just for one night?’

‘I’m not invited?’

‘Cast and crew only I’m afraid.’

‘I’d forgotten about your endless socials.’

‘It’s good for the cast and crew to get along,’ says Nadia. ‘If everyone has fun the movie always comes out better.’

‘I had something planned for Sophia tonight.’

‘I … Marc, I think I should go,’ I say, placing a hand over his. ‘Can the surprise wait another day?’

‘It can wait another day.’

‘Okay!’ Nadia claps her hands. ‘This is good news. What would drinks be without our leading lady?’

I laugh. ‘I think that leading lady title caused a bit of trouble today. With Sigourney.’

Nadia waves a dismissive hand. ‘Oh she’s a prima donna. Models always are. I just told her you were the good leading lady and she was the bad one. That way she still gets to think she’s the most important person in the movie.’

‘I don’t mind if she
is
the leading lady,’ I say. ‘Honestly. She’s more famous than me. Maybe she has a point.’

‘I decide who the leading lady is, not Sigourney,’ says Nadia. ‘And I’ve decided it’s you. Okay. So listen – drinks at eight. You know where the Peacock Lounge is right?’

‘No.’

‘I know where it is,’ says Marc shortly.

‘Of
course
you do,’ says Nadia. ‘You know where every bar in London is. Right? It’s settled then. You can drop Sophia off.’

A tiny smile plays on Marc’s lips. ‘Drop her off? I’m
really
not invited then?’

‘No partners I’m afraid. We’re trying to bond as a crew. Not have a party.’

‘So it won’t be a party?’ says Marc, looking even more amused. ‘That’ll be a first for you.’

Nadia laughs. ‘Well maybe a
bit
of a party. But we’ll have your girl home before midnight, okay? There’s another early start tomorrow.’

Marc frowns. ‘Sophia, you shouldn’t stay out too late. You need your rest.’

‘I won’t stay for long,’ I say. ‘Just an hour or so. Okay?’

Marc nods but he doesn’t look happy.

‘So you take her home and feed her,’ says Nadia, patting the car’s shiny paintwork. ‘Then bring her back to us for eight.’

‘If that’s how it has to be, that’s how it has to be.’ Marc puts the car into gear and speeds towards the security gates.

‘Marc!’ I say, as we speed away from Nadia. ‘You didn’t even say bye. Or let me say goodbye.’

‘You’ll be seeing her in a few hours. How many goodbyes do you need?’

‘You’re not happy. Are you? That I’m going out for cocktails.’

‘Well for a start you won’t be having cocktails.’

‘No I didn’t mean … of course I won’t. You know that. Marc, why are you being like this?’

‘I think it’s a bad idea for you to go out tonight. I think you’re tiring yourself out. You have another early start tomorrow.’

‘It’s just for a few hours. It’s fine.’ I let out an involuntary yawn, and Marc’s expression turns thunderous.

‘Sophia—’

‘It’s just for a few hours Marc. Is this about the surprise you have planned? Is that it? You’re upset because I’m putting you off?’

‘Hardly. It’s you I’m thinking of. And your health.’

‘I’ve lived with my body a long time. I think I know what I can manage.’

‘Really?’ Marc barks. ‘Because experience has taught me that’s something you
don’t
know. The last time you tried to
manage
you ran yourself ragged and ended up in hospital. And
this
time you could be
pregnant
.’

He shouts that last word and I feel hurt sting my chest.

‘You’re saying it like it’s an illness.’

‘If you’re pregnant it will weaken you.’

‘Millions of women—’

‘YOU ARE NOT MILLIONS OF WOMEN,’ Marc shouts, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. ‘You are the woman I love. The woman I would do anything for. The woman I would die for. And if anything happened to you …’

My stomach softens. ‘Nothing will happen to me.’

‘It won’t if you let me take care of you. But when you insist on making decisions for yourself—’

‘Don’t let’s do this again,’ I say. ‘This same argument. Going round and round. I’m not a child. I have to make my own mistakes.’

‘Not if you’re carrying my baby,’ Marc growls.

‘Oh so it’s
your
baby?’ I say. ‘I thought it was ours.’

‘Mine. Ours. What’s the difference?’ Marc pulls the car to an abrupt stop and turns to me. ‘Don’t you understand Sophia? What it would do to me if you got hurt?’

‘I understand,’ I whisper. ‘But I thought
you
understood I have to live my own life.’

‘The fact you could be pregnant has … changed things. I knew I loved you before. But it’s nothing to how I feel now. How protective I feel. You don’t know how hard this day has been for me.’

I feel myself smile. ‘Thank you. For loving me so much. It’s … unbelievable sometimes.’

‘It still surprises me,’ says Marc, managing a smile. ‘I wanted to protect you the first moment I met you. And now … you could be carrying
our
child.’ He shakes his head. ‘You’re my responsibility. Now more than ever. If anything happened to you it would be my fault. And I could never live with myself.’

‘I’m not your responsibility.’

‘Oh yes you are, Mrs Blackwell. Your happiness. Your pleasure. Your health.
Our
baby. All my responsibility. And I take my responsibilities very seriously.’

He leans in and kisses me.

It’s a soft kiss at first, but then it grows harder and more sensual, one hand coming around my back to pull me to him.

I hear myself moan as the kiss intensifies and Marc’s tongue softly pushes into my mouth.

Suddenly Marc pulls back and grabs the steering wheel. ‘You, Mrs Blackwell, are still fucking irresistible. And as usual you are testing my self-control.’

He slams his foot on the accelerator and pulls onto the main road, dodging in and out of cars.

I grip the leather seat. ‘Slow down!’

‘You’re safe. You should know that by now.’

‘It’s not that I don’t trust your driving,’ I say. ‘I’m just a wimp when it comes to speed.’

‘The faster I get you home the faster I can fuck you.’

‘I thought you didn’t want to tire me out?’

‘What I have planned shouldn’t tire you out at all,’ says Marc. ‘You won’t have to lift a finger. In fact if you do, you’ll be in big trouble. I am taking your health very, very seriously.’

33

Back at the townhouse, supper is laid out in the kitchen. It’s all kinds of deli stuff – cold cuts of meat, cheeses, pickles, dips, fresh butter and two huge brown farmhouse loaves.

‘Eat up,’ says Marc. ‘You need your strength.’ He pours me a glass of iced water with lemon. ‘And you should drink too. A day on set can dehydrate you.’

‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘What would I do without you?’

‘You will never have to find out.’

As I’m finishing my meal, Marc props his elbows on the breakfast bar and watches me.

‘You’re very beautiful when you eat.’

I pick up a napkin and dab my lips self-consciously. ‘Thank you.’

‘I thought you’d want a light supper. After a day of greasy catered food.’

‘How did you know what we had for lunch?’

Marc smiles. ‘I may not have shot a movie for a while, but I remember the catering. Especially bad in London. Not two salad leaves to rub together.’

I laugh. ‘You really do remember.’

‘And I’m willing to bet Sigourney was less than happy with the food. Would I be right?’

My stomach drops. ‘Why did you have to mention her?’

‘Sophia, I’m not going to dance around your jealousy. She’s a girl from my past who meant nothing to me. Nothing at all. I’ve already told you that.’

‘She’s obviously on your mind.’

‘Hardly. I just remember how she was around food, that’s all. A pain in the backside.’

‘I don’t want to talk about your ex-girlfriend.’

‘She’s not my ex-girlfriend. She’s just a girl. Nothing more. I want you to grow out of this jealousy of yours. And the only way to do that is to confront it head on.’

‘Grow out of my jealousy? Like you’ve grown out of yours?’

‘I admit, I still have my moments.’ A smile spikes Marc’s lips.

‘So I can still have mine.’

‘From time to time. But Sigourney is a girl you’re going to be working with for the next few months. You have to get over this one, Sophia. Having said that, you’re fucking sexy when you’re angry.’ He strolls around the breakfast bar and turns my stool to face him. ‘Fucking, fucking sexy.’

‘Don’t joke about this Marc,’ I huff.

‘And irresistible.’ He presses his lips against mine. Then he lifts me into his arms and carries me towards the staircase.

‘I’m still angry with you,’ I mutter.

‘Anger is good. It gives me something to work with.’ Marc carries me up the stairs.

‘We haven’t finished talking,’ I say. ‘This isn’t over.’

‘Is that any way to speak to your husband?’ Marc walks into one of the many guest bedrooms. ‘Don’t struggle. And by the way, you look even more beautiful when you glare.’

Marc gives me an infuriating smile as he lays me gently on the bed.

I’ve never been in this room before, and feel the mattress ripple gently underneath me in the weirdest way.

‘Oh!’ I gasp. ‘What’s wrong with the bed?’

‘Nothing. It’s a water bed.’ Marc leans over me, palms holding my wrists either side of my head. ‘It arrived today.’

‘Are you actually
pinning
me to the bed, Mr Blackwell? If I’d known this was your idea of marriage …’

‘It’s exactly my idea of marriage,’ says Marc, his eyes on mine. ‘A good obedient wife obeying her husband. And if she steps out of line …’

‘She gets punished?’

‘Exactly right.’

‘And here was me thinking you’d given up your controlling behaviour.’

‘I’m not controlling you. Leave if you want to.’

I laugh.

Marc cups his ear. ‘What was that? You don’t want to leave? You’d like your husband to teach you good manners?’

I feel the weight of his hand, still pinning  wrists down. And see his long body come to sit astride mine.

‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you,’ says Marc. ‘Did you say you wanted to leave?’

‘No,’ I mumble.

‘Thought not.’ Marc lies between my legs and I feel the hardness of him against my thighs.

The bed ripples beneath us.

Marc reaches down and tilts my head. ‘Do you see that? In the corner?’

I follow his gaze.

‘What is
that
?’

In the corner of the bedroom is some huge metal frame thing that looks like exercise equipment. Except there are all sorts of leather straps over it …

Marc smiles. ‘Your surprise.’

34

I wriggle under Marc, but his hands return to my wrists and hold me firm.

The bed wobbles.

‘Let me up. I want to see.’

‘You’ll get up when I tell you to.’

‘Oh stop it. We’re married now. You can’t keep bossing me around.’

‘Says who?’

‘Says me.’

‘As usual, I have to take a firm hand in your pleasure. Because you don’t want to admit that me taking charge turns you on.’

I glare at Marc. ‘God you can be a bastard sometimes.’

‘A bastard you’re in love with.’

Marc kisses me, pressing his whole weight down.

I let out a sigh, melting under him and moving with the watery mattress.

His hardness presses insistently against my thighs, and he forces my legs further open with his knee.

I swallow hard as he lifts my leg and deftly undoes my shoe laces.

Within seconds he’s pulled off my s and s and is sliding off my jeans.

As he pulls my panties down, he rests his head between my legs and moves his tongue in circles.

‘Ohhh,’ I moan, spreading my legs wider.

His tongue moves firmly as he pushes my knees to my chest.

The bed ripples under me and my thighs tense with pleasure as I rock back and forth.

Marc’s tongue stops circling and his head moves up my stomach, kissing my navel, ribs and between my breasts. He pulls my legs around him, and I feel his hardness between my thighs again.

Taking one breast firmly in his hand, Marc sucks hard with his strong lips, pulling white flesh into his mouth.

‘Oh!’ I cry, my hand finding his hair.

He responds by sucking harder, and my fingers tighten against his scalp.

‘You’re going to give me a love bite,’ I moan.

Marc’s lips drop free. ‘Exactly right. I’m marking my territory.’

He presses his lips back against my breast, sucking with a ferocity that makes me cry out.

When he finally releases me, I see an angry red mark.

‘Interesting place to give me one of those,’ I say.

Marc moves his lips to my neck, murmuring against my throat, ‘I can’t very well mark your neck when you have filming to do.’

‘You don’t have to mark me anywhere,’ I say, feeling red hot between my legs.

‘Oh yes I do.’ Marc’s lips move around my throat and up to my ear. Then he whispers, ‘Because you’re mine.’

I wrap my legs around his backside, my hands finding their way into his hair again.

He responds by pushing himself between my legs, moving his hand down to guide himself in.

I am SO ready for him, and he slides easily inside.

I feel him fill me up and moan loudly, my thighs tightening around his hips.

As Marc begins to move, we float on the bed, ebbing and flowing.

I’m lost in so many sensations – the gentle movement of the bed, the lapping sound of water in the mattress … and Marc, Marc, Marc, his hard body and hands and relentless lips.

We move together in perfect rhythm, and my eyes close as heat and pressure build.

‘Oh Marc. Oh god. Oh god, Marc. Marc!’ I cry out, tightening my body around him, grasping his thick brown hair.

Marc responds by pounding harder and faster, the bed moving like a tidal wave.

I cry out Marc’s name and pull him deep inside me.

As I cling to Marc, sweat prickling my forehead, I expect him to take a few more strokes and make us both come. But instead he pulls out and turns me over onto my hands and knees, caressing my backside with his large, strong palm.

My skin is tingling all over and his hand feels so good.

Marc lines himself up between my legs. He teases me for a moment, circling his hardness between my legs.

I let out a low moan.

‘Open your legs. Wider.’

‘Marc. Please …’

‘I thought we’d already cleared up who was in charge today,’ Marc whispers, his fingers tightening in my hair. ‘You, Mrs Blackwell, will do exactly what I tell you. Now open your legs.’

Obligingly I move my knees apart and feel Marc’s hardness just where I want him. But he moves back.

‘Marc,’ I beg. ‘Please don’t tease me.’

‘If I wanted to tease you I’d do a lot worse than this,’ Marc growls. ‘Now Mrs Blackwell. Clear something up for me. Do I have something you want?’

‘Yes,’ I stammer.

‘And are you going to do what I tell you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Keep perfectly still. I don’t want you to move a muscle. I won’t be accused of tiring you out.’

‘I’ll try,’ I say, feeling the bed sway beneath me.

‘You won’t try,’ Marc growls. ‘You’ll do.’

He plunges himself inside me and I let out a long, loud moan.

The bed ripples under my hands and knees and I sway with Marc, up down, up down.

‘Oh god.’

Marc’s hand moves around to the most sensitive, warm part of my body, right between my legs, and I let out a gasp as his finger begins to circle.

‘Marc. Oh god Marc!’

‘Don’t move.’

Marc settles into a steady rhythm, slow and deep at first. And then faster and faster until the bed is swishing and swaying and I’m moaning louder and louder.

As he moves deeper inside me I feel an orgasm building up.

‘Marc I—’

Marc pulls my hair so tight that my head moves with him. ‘I know. You’re about to come.’

He drops my head so it falls limply towards the bed, grabs my hips with both hands and plunges so deeply inside me that I fall forwards onto the pillow.

‘Marc. Oh
Marc
.’

I come so deeply that for a few seconds I see nothing but red spots. I feel Marc still inside me and hear his moans as he comes too.

I lay flat on the soft water bed with Marc’s weight on top of me, his hips pressing against my buttocks.

Then I feel Marc’s strong fingers move my hair aside and his lips bury themselves against my neck.

‘You, Mrs Blackwell, are the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. Do you know that?’

I smile into the pillow. ‘Had in what way?’

‘In every way. But specifically I was talking about my ownership of you in marriage.’

‘Ownership?’ I know he’s teasing, but I can’t help rising to it.

‘Yes. Ownership. As I told you before, you’re mine now. All mine. And I have the legal documents to prove it.’

He finds my hand and pulls it to his lips, kissing my wedding finger. ‘And then there’s this, of course. The symbol of my ownership on your lovely finger.’

‘Then I must own you too,’ I say, reaching down and finding Marc’s wedding hand. I turn his ring round and round, then slide my fingers between his.

‘Yes you do.’

He squeezes my hand.

My eyes wander to the contraption in the corner.

‘So we never got around to using my surprise.’

‘If you’re going out tonight, we can save that for another day. I promised I wouldn’t tire you out.’

‘Actually I do feel pretty tired.’

Marc strokes my hair. ‘Then sleep.’

‘But I’ve got this … cocktail thing. I can’t let Nadia down.’

‘Yes, you can.’

‘No I can’t Marc.’ I slide out from under him and he rolls back onto the swaying water bed then props himself on one elbow.

‘You’re going to wear yourself out,’ he says, his voice just touching anger. ‘You’re already tired. Nadia won’t mind. I promise you.’

‘You know me,’ I say softly. ‘You know I’d never let anyone down. Not when I’ve made a promise.’

‘That’s what I was afraid you’d say.’ Marc pulls himself up and sits beside me. He slides his arm around my shoulder. ‘So my ploy didn’t work.’

‘What ploy?’

‘My ploy to entice you to stay here with me. And not go out tonight.’

‘You don’t really mean that, do you? You weren’t really … I mean, you didn’t take me up here to try and convince me to stay in?’

‘Most certainly.’

‘Nice try.’

‘It wasn’t bad, was it?’ Marc’s arm drops and he touches his forehead to mine. ‘But seriously. If you’re going out, take it easy okay? Home early. No cocktails—’

‘Marc, of course not!’

‘And home by nine.’ He strokes hair from my face.

‘Nine?’ I check my watch. ‘That’ll barely give me half an hour. Come on Marc, I’m supposed to be making friends with the cast and crew. Not checking in for a few minutes.’

‘Fine. Ten o’clock.’

‘You’re saying that like you have control of my timetable.’

Marc pulls me to him. ‘I am well aware, Mrs Blackwell, that I have no control of your schedule. In fact, I have absolutely no control of you whatsoever when it comes to your career. I shall have to console myself with the fact that in the bedroom you still let me take charge once in a while.’

‘Once in a while?’ I laugh.

Marc gives me a playful slap on the behind. ‘Get dressed Mrs Blackwell. Your public awaits.’

‘I’m really not sure I want to see Sigourney again,’ I admit. ‘But it’ll be nice to see the others.’

‘Don’t worry about her. Her bark’s worse than her bite. She’s just a messed up little girl in a grown-ups body.’

I feel that pang again. In my stomach. Part jealousy, part sadness. I hate that Marc has a past. But he’s right – I’ll be working with Sigourney a long time. I need to learn not to tense up whenever Marc talks about her.

‘Hey.’ Marc takes my chin in his fingers. ‘Only you, okay? It’s only ever been you. Remember that?’

‘I’ll try.’