THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD || Paul McCartney [Completed]

22. My Love

Oh, I love, oh, my love
Only my love holds the other key to me
Oh, my love, oh, my love
Only my love does it good to me

---

Munich, Germany: June 23rd

Paul was tired.

They just finished wrapping up Revolver, and now they were in Germany, and it seemed touring was becoming more monotonous than he remembered. They were staying at the Hotel Bayerischer Hof, and their first show was the next day, so that gave them little time to rest. Paul enjoyed their first ever visit to Germany, and he thought he was looking forward to this one, but his body ached, and he felt drained. Perhaps it was the screaming that followed them everywhere, and the press conference they just attended that did nothing but hound them with tedious questions.

"Is it true you are no longer an item with Jane Asher?" They would ask, "The word is you're involved with a school teacher. Is this true, Paul?" They would continue. His head was pounding, and he wanted to fall face first into the pillow and suffocate in it. And questions about Natalie weren't the worst of it, it was their music and the rumors and the over-analyzing of their songs that ate at him.

"Relax." Her voice was soft and soothing.

Paul turned and fell back on the bed, and then looked upon Natalie. She had her shoulder pressed against the doorframe, and her arms crossed over her chest as she regarded him with a rueful smile.

By God she was beautiful. The way her chestnut brown hair fell to her shoulders. She hardly kept it up, or styled it like the other girls. She allowed her hair to fall naturally; in loose waves that framed her face delicately. She had soft features and expressive honey colored eyes that seemed to stare right into his soul. It had been months, and she still took his breath away, and he doubted that would ever change.

"Com'ere, luv." He implored, holding his hand out for her to go to him. Natalie obliged, her sheepish smile turning into a wolfish grin as she sauntered to him. She placed her smaller hand in his, and he gripped her waist eagerly, pulling her down onto his lap. She fell into him, letting out a playful yelp. He wrapped his arms around her, catching her and steadying her in his grasp. His hands ran along her knee to her thigh until he tangled his fingers and thumbs into her hair. He leaned in, breathing her in, before closing the gap between them.

He kissed her ardently, so deeply he could taste her. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers feathered through his hair, and she repositioned herself to straddle him, causing her skirt to hike up her hips. Paul gripped her thigh with one hand while the other held a steady grip behind her neck. Their kiss never enfeebled and instead her hips began to impatiently thrust into him, and he groaned in response. He stood up, lifting her up as he did so. He turned them around, replacing his spot on the bed with Natalie.

He crawled over her, pushing her down onto her back and rejoined their lips. He held her hands above her head, threading his fingers with hers. He kissed her a moment longer before moving his lips to her chin, down her neck until he found the opening of her shirt. He snapped a button, giving him access to her collarbone. Natalie bit her lower lip, arching into him, her body pleading with him to go further. Her thighs squeezed his hips, "Paul, I want you to—" But her words died in her throat.

"You two do understand that your door is open?" Someone said, with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Natalie gasped, practically shoving Paul away from her to see the source of their disturbance. It was John. He was grinning like a villain, his eyes glittering with mirth. "Honestly, don't stop on my account, do go on." He stepped into the room, "What is it you wanted Paulie here to do to you, Natalie?"