Page 110 of All Mine
Etienne held her in place, one hand on each thigh, stilling her. She glanced at him there, his face between her legs, the hint of a smile playing on his mouth. She dropped her head back to the pillow and knew he was making her wait.
He rubbed the stubble of his beard on her left inner thigh and she groaned at the proximity of him. He pressed his lips to her mound, his beard scratching her softness and leaving it tingling. And then the tip of his tongue flicked out, so soft, so gentle as to be almost not there. But the next pushed firmly against her clit and she gasped at the current that charged through her. Her back arched like a bow, breasts pushing to the sky. Isabella closed her eyes to feel everything, to lose herself to this feeling. This moment. Again, and again, flicking, licking, gently at first, as though exploring, tasting, testing reactions. Then longer strokes, covering all of her, his moans vibrating against her core. She filled her hands with her own full breasts, and put her fingers to her nipples, pulling them to peaks. His hand came between her legs, two fingers inside her plunging, again and again and again as he pressed his whole mouth over her clit and sucked it inside his mouth, holding it between his teeth for a second before tugging with his lips. His other hand reached over her belly to her breasts and he put his hand over hers and suddenly she was reaching and reaching for something that crashed over her in such waves that behind her closed eyes she saw sparks and then stars and fell a thousand miles into a warm black nothing.
Chapter Sixty
Etienne
Etienne opened his eyes into a mass of chestnut-brown waves on the pillow. Isabella was still sleeping, the rise and fall of her chest almost, but not quite, soundless − like a cat in the second it begins to purr. His arm was still slung over her waist and she fitted perfectly to his front. Her bottom pushed into his groin was having an immediate effect now that he was awake, or maybe her closeness had woken him.
He breathed her in– the lemony shampoo, the cream of her skin– before exhaling slowly, fully. The light was already shining through the gaps in the wooden blinds and it was time to go. However nice this was– and it was probably the nicest way in which he’d ever woken up– he had to get out of bed. He had a lot to do if his plan was going to work.
He shifted in the bed and she awoke, turning towards him, winding her arm around him even before she had opened her eyes. She was sleep-smudged and beautiful, bare-faced, and he could have stayed there all day, looking at her, touching her. . .
But there was no time for distractions. The thought made him laugh. He was turning into Isabella.
Last night, after she’d come, Etienne had rolled her into bed and switched out the light. He’d held her and stroked her head as she’d drifted immediately into a deep sleep, exhausted by the shock of the day.
He lay there for a long time, not daring to move in case he woke her up. But also, to watch her as he still tasted her on his mouth. The twitch of her nose when a stray hair fell on it. Her slightly parted lips. The way her eyelids moved occasionally with dreams underneath. His heart swelled with love.
Finally, she woke. As her eyes adjusted to the light and she spotted him there, she smiled.
‘I have to go,’ Etienne said, pressing a kiss to her mouth, and she made a noise of protest and pulled him in tight. He laughed and kissed her again, before scooting out of the bed.
‘You sort the skip out. I’ll sort the rest,’ he said, pulling his boxers on and noticing her admiring the view. His jeans came next. ‘I’m going home to check Fred is okay and have a shower and then I’ll get to work.’
‘Are you sure I shouldn’t postpone the opening? Cancel the bookings?’ She sat up and stretched her arms above her head, letting the sheet fall from her breasts. He stopped with one sock midway on, and blinked, trying to keep his focus. Stuffing his foot into his trainer, he knew the only way to get out of here without ravishing that body was to leave fast. He grabbed his shirt from the bathroom, blew her a kiss and ran out the door.
Once he was showered– which was quite a feat with an erection like a flagpole thinking about the shower he’d had with Isabella the night before– and was at the kitchen table, he began making his list of contacts. It would take everyone he knew to make the plan come to life but he was determined to make it work. Isabella was depending on him and he wouldn’t let her down.
He rang Rosie and Wren first. They immediately promised to pass the word on to all the clubs that met in The Lit Lounge. Walker promised to email everyone who had taken in a Spare Room Sleepover guest, and also contact the Malones so that Millie could pass on to her friends on Snapchat. Fox put the word out on Reggie’s class WhatsApp group. That was already more than one hundred people who knew Isabella that he was sure would want to help. After everything she’d done for Honeybridge, it was time for Honeybridge to repay the gesture.
Once he’d called everyone, he wrote up the list.
Wooden chairs x 60
Tables x 12 (wood if possible)
Mirrors– as many as possible– different sizes and shapes welcome
Glasses x hundreds
Luckily the crockery and cutlery just needed putting through the dishwasher and nothing had been touched in the kitchen.
It was the dining room that he needed to focus on. And the marketing. But he had an idea for that too.
‘You okay, Boss?’ Mile End Mickey asked, pulling on his apron. ‘I heard you were the hero of the day yesterday at Tutto Mio.’
‘Not so hard to believe, is it?’ Etienne said and addedpictures/artto his list of things to do.
‘Finally realised you fancied her then?’ Mile End Mickey waved a rolling pin his way. ‘Thank fuck for that.’
Chapter Sixty-One
Isabella
By four o’clock in the afternoon, Isabella was starting to panic. The restaurant was still an empty space, although it was clean and free of debris and glass, and she was meant to open the next day. There was a brown bloodstain soaked into one section of the old floorboards which hadn’t scrubbed out, but it didn’t look out of place as the floorboards were reclaimed and bore bruises and memories from their previous lives anyway. It was now another piece of history– and one she felt curiously proud of. No matter what people threw at her, she was going to get through it.
She messaged Etienne again. This time a single question mark. She couldn’t see how this was going to work. The closer it got to the end of the day, the less she could imagine opening tomorrow lunchtime with a fully functioning restaurant. All day, he’d replied saying not to worry, to focus on the kitchen and the team.
