Carnival of Light || Paul McCartney/Beatles

24. Paris : Part 4

Carnival of Light

24.

On the third morning in Paris, I woke up feeling knackered from drinking absinthe in Pigalle for longer than I needed to. Paul and I were all tangled up with each other, my head on his chest and his arms around me, hiding his face in my hair from the sunshine spilling through the window.

We'd gone for dinner in Montmartre, then Brian caught a cab back to the hotel while Paul, John, Neil and I went drinking in Pigalle, a neon pantheon of sex clubs and seedy bars. Paul and I peeled off a little while later, snogging each other senseless in the chauffeured car back to the hotel while John and Neil carried on. I didn't feel so bad as I had after drinking at Chez Castel, but absinthe leaves you feeling worn out. I'm sure the strong hash we'd smoked down a back alley with some South Africans didn't help either.

I willed myself back to sleep, Paul's warm chest and steady breath lulling me down, and I dozed for a little while longer until I decided I needed coffee to lift the fog.

I pulled myself up, feeling drowsy as I pushed my hair over my shoulder. I didn't know where my knickers ended up, so I picked out a new pair from my suitcase and pulled on a flimsy camisole that was nearly transparent.

Paul woke up as I was lighting a cigarette, yawning and rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye. I picked up the telephone and dialled reception as I watched him stretch himself awake, turning away from him as I asked for coffee, and also tea—some English people don't drink coffee, and I'd only seen Paul drink tea.

I turned back around just as Paul lit a cigarette for himself. He'd pulled himself up to sit with his back against the headboard, the sheets pooling around his hips, his hair a mess. His eyes swept over me, and I was incapable of doing anything but drifting back to the bed to be near him.

"Did I hear something about le cafe?" His voice was raspy and he cleared his throat before taking another drag off his cigarette.

"Yes," I passed him an empty ashtray, not wanting to repeat the previous morning. "I asked for tea too, if you don't drink coffee."

"I drink coffee," Paul smiled sleepily, and gestured for me to come closer.

I slid back in bed, sitting up against the headboard with him and pressing myself against his side with my head on his shoulder.

"Why've you got clothes on?" Paul complained, and I laughed as I tipped my head back to look at him.

"I have to wear clothes if someone's going to bring us coffee."

He frowned at me, reconsidering what I'd put on. "That's what you're wearing to open the door?"

"It's a work in progress," I explained which made him grin as he slung his arm around me and kissed my hair.

"You're so funny," he sighed.

We fell into a comfortable silence as we smoked and waited for the coffee to arrive. I absentmindedly ran my fingers over Paul's chest and then down his stomach, feeling the muscles tense as my hand drifted closer to the sheets. I smiled and discarded my cigarette in the ashtray then splayed my hand out on his chest and turned my head to kiss him.

His hand slipped into my hair as I smoothed my palm down the front of his body, running my thumb along one hip bone. I let my fingers drift over his cock, teasing him before I wrapped my hand around him. Paul let out a soft, uneven breath, which turned me on and gave me goosebumps, and I realised what I wanted to do for him – to him. But before I could work up to it, there was a knock at the door.

Paul pulled away from me with his eyes closed, scrunching his face up in frustration, which was quite cute. I tried not to laugh as I kissed his cheek and slid off the bed to grab my dressing gown from my suitcase. I threw it on and tied the sash as I went through to the living room to open the door to a trolly bearing a pot of tea and a carafe of coffee. I found some money in my purse to tip them, thanked them, and then nearly ran back to the bedroom where Paul was rubbing both hands over his face, trying to push away the absinthe-induced malaise, probably infused with some sexual frustration now too.