In the Interlude

Chapter 44 - And it Hits the Fan

The curtains were drawn, shutting out the world outside of the room.

He slipped his knee between her thighs and tightened his arm around her. She stirred, and her hand reached to touch him. "Sorry to wake you," he said, whispering in her ear, his desire for her pressed against her back.

Aïcha chuckled. "I am having a hard time right now believing you're sorry," she answered against his beard.

Tom moved his hand and his fingers hooked in the waistband of her pyjamas. He wanted her warm and soft body naked against his.

"What time is it?" she asked, yawning. She flipped to her back and languidly stretched her body as Tom helped her wriggle out of her nightwear.

"Not morning yet." His mouth covered hers, gently biting her lower lip, urging her to respond to him. She let out a soft moan and one of her hands sank into his wild curls, the other pressing on his back, pushing him closer to her now naked body. Tom groaned into her mouth and, towering over her, nudged her legs open with his knee, while his hand found the way to her breasts.

"Tom," she whispered into the darkness. God, the way he kissed – devouring her lips, his tongue twirling around hers, leaving her weak and breathless. She could stay like this forever, in his bed, in his arms, and she wouldn't mind. And then she felt a pang in her heart when she remembered what day they were – it was Tuesday, and she was leaving tomorrow. Her mind was stuck on that thought. She sighed and rubbed one of her palms against her forehead.

"Hey," Tom said, feeling Aïcha slipping away from him. He eased back and turned on the bedside lamp. "Is everything alright, love?"

She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. "I'm fine," she paused. "I was just thinking about tomorrow."

His expression softened as she swept her thumb across his cheek. "I am leaving tomorrow."

Tom knew that. He was very much up to date with the circumstances. He threaded his hand in her hair. "Why don't you stay a little longer? You said Mia was in Bordeaux and that her grandparents aren't bringing her back before Sunday." There was a moment of silence. How did he become so attached to her, he didn't know. But the thought of her leaving tomorrow was ripping him inside.

"So, what do you say? Stay until Saturday. Please? We'll have more mornings and evenings and nights to spend with each other."

Aïcha sat up, her eyes searched his. She reached for his shoulders, urging him closer and kissed him hard as if it had been weeks since she had last kissed him.

Slowly, he lowered her on her back, her pointed nipples grazing across his toned chest. "Is that a yes?"

She moaned her answer into his mouth. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a warm sensation throbbed at the pit of her belly. "A thousand and one yes."

* * * * *

Tom was gone for a run when she woke up in the morning. The empty bed smelled of him. Her gaze fell on his pillow. It still held the indentation his head had made. She closed her eyes and recalled the intensity of their passion in the silence and the stillness of the early hours. She recalled his strong body, pressed over her, into her, the heat of his mouth and his hands burning through her skin. And now, she couldn't wait to be back in his arms.

The obnoxious sound of the alarm clock on her phone reminded her it was time to put those fantasies aside and face the day. Aïcha was meeting the end client on the project she was working on with the agency. They needed to approve the vision and strategy she had prepared for their brand. There was no room for mistakes.

Fresh croissants and a note awaited Aïcha when she finally made it to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. She read it out loud. "I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." She smiled. And just like that, Shakespeare was back.