A Constant Attraction (Attraction #2) (12 page)

It all appeared very formal, until you heard the whistling sound coming from the latex rocket flying balloons, that you had to dodge or defend your glasses of wine from. Especially as one did have perfect aim and plopped into my colleague’s drinking vessel. I say vessel, you could quite mistaken what we were drinking out of to be fish bowls! Yes, to an outsider it looked all very posh, with it's muted purple lighting to set the mood and cheery festive celebratory voices echoing. Once we were all on the dance floor though, by heck, the deputy head was showing off some moves! One for Youtube it was.

Turning into the all familiar driveway, you then bypass the buildings and grounds. There isn't much of a view of the vineyard from where we are, honestly though, who comes for the view? Having paid for a tour and wine tasting session, the view can wait for another time.

We are not the only one's that have taken up the tour, there must be another dozen or so couples. Starting in the Winery, the expert guide talks us through the whole making process, which don't get me wrong, I am interested in, but...lets get to the tasting.

Both Marc and I hover towards the back of the group. He has no problem in seeing what is going on, as he's tall enough to see. Me however, the short arse next to him, just has a wonderful view of an elderly man's burgundy jacket. I'm not that fussed in truth, as I am waiting for the best part later. I am too busy trying to rescue my thoughts from some other parallel universe when I feel Marc nudge me in the side. We're currently standing in the cool, brick cellar which houses the giant kegs of red and white wines. Looking up at Marc, he casually nods towards a pair of kegs just back from us. Without saying a word, we silently back away from the rest of the group who are engrossed in the tour guide. Marc guides us in between the huge wooden objects until we can no longer see anyone. I open my mouth to say something, just as Marc pushes me back against the cold stone wall and covers my lips with his. The roughness of the brick against my top and skin is soon forgotten as he then lowers his warm mouth to my neck. Tilting my head back, I flinch at the nipping, as Marc delicately bites the skin before kissing and running his tongue over it. The soft moan that leaves my lips is all I can do and say. I clasp at his upper arms, the smooth, blue cotton T-Shirt is a thin layer of defence between us.  Marc reaches down for my thigh and raises it, so that my maxi dress then rises and hoists to above my knee. The buckle of my sandals catches on the waist band of his jeans and belt.

“I want to take you here Isabel.”

The thrill and excitement of what Marc says, causes my breath to catch in my throat. My breathing is laboured, which is in complete contrast to Marc's as he fights with the zipper on his trouser. I adjust myself against the wall, so that I can raise my leg higher and using one hand I pull the material of the white silk lingerie to one side. Instinctively, I am wet when I feel the tip of Marc against me. It all seems to be happening rather quickly, which is something I don't mind. The fact that we are yet again, performing such an act in a public space is driving me on. He pulls at the strands hair that fall at the back of me, forcing my head back. He then drives himself into me, kissing me hard, he muffles the sexual sounds that I am eager to scream and shout. The joint force and intensity, of the love making and of Marc rubbing the pad of his thumb against the distended nub of my clit, speeds up the impending orgasm that will inevitably happen.

Almost grunting in my ear, I feel the warm breath of Marc as he bites the lobe, “I can't hold back Isabel, come with me.”

Marc thrusts deep inside me; one, two, three more times...The heat inside, soothes me to the core and covering my mouth with the palm of my hand, I reduce the noise that comes from me. Melting into him, we fight to get our breath back for next minute or two. I do realise we won't be able to make love so many times and in so many exotic places once we get back to reality, hence why I am making the most of this now. I am sure you would as well.

A giggle escapes from my lips, as Marc gently pulls himself out of me. Offering me a tissue from his pocket, I am able to clean myself up. Yes, unfortunately it is nothing like what you read in books or watch on films, it's something I have to do. More for the reason that I don't want to be walking around like John Wayne, for the remainder of the day! The combined smell of sex and wine does wonders for the senses, I smile at what we've just done. Good grief Chambers, I am turning into that little minx. Righting ourselves, we check that each other looks respectable enough, before joining the rest of the party again. Marc grabs a hold of my hand and looking inconspicuously around the end of the keg, I start to laugh even more. I cannot believe we have just done that. Yet again, enjoying the most amazing sex and now we have to act as normal as possible. I am trying to disguise the goofy 'I've just been fucked' look, but it hurts.

Having to whisper so nobody can hear me, I then tug Marc back.

“I can't go out there just yet, not straight after doing that. Gawd knows what I look like. Please just give me a minute.”

“You look absolutely fine Izzy. You look gorgeous actually. The glowing complexion suits you.” He then winks at me in a way he knows, does things to me.

“Hey you! I'm supposed to be calming down, not getting all hot and bothered again Mr!”

Suppressing a giggle he tells me to hold back, while he checks out where the group is now.

I am almost positive you would have been in a position where, the harder you try to stop yourself from doing something, the worse it gets. So me attempting to stop giggling is a feat. My laugh is infectious and therefore sets Marc off. Bloody hell, we're going to get into so much trouble if caught. Taking some deep breaths, we calm ourselves down. I'm not kidding, all we need now, is the bloomin “Mission Impossible” theme tune to start up, as we plan a way of getting back to the rest of the tour.

“Perhaps we could move further back up the room. We should be able to squeeze past the kegs and the wall.” No way! Not on your life buddy! Marc's bright idea is great for him...So looking up at him in bewilderment, I have to say it as it is.

“Marc do you really think I'd be able to fit through that gap with this chest of mine.” Pointing to my rather generous chest, I note his eyes don't stay fixed on mine for long. “If I do that, I am liable to get stuck in between them and the wall, and that is something I will find not only very difficult to explain, but embarrassing as well, unless you'd like to come up with another bright idea for a story now.”

The grin on Marc's face is obvious as he lowers his gaze to my bosom.

“Mmm! You may be right, as per usual Ms Chambers.”

“Eye's up Mr Sanders, we need to concentrate and think straight.”

How the hell can I possibly concentrate now? Isabel does have the most amazing full breasts. Can a man be both a leg and breast kind of guy? Jeez! Anyone would think I was talking about eating turkey! Come on Sanders, snap out of it.

“Okay, what I suggest is we wait until they round the corner or we can pretend that we were just checking out the kegs.”

Isabel begins to laugh even more, “Thank goodness it was your Father that dictated what action to take with Emelie, as I don't think checking out the kegs, would be something he'd come up with.”

Watching Isabel cover her mouth, to stop herself from laughing so much pulls at my heart. She really doesn't take life too seriously, which is another quality I find extremely endearing about her.

“All right Chambers, what do you suggest then?” raising one eyebrow up to her, as I know what that does, I've laid down the challenge. And she rises to it.

“Hmm! I see what you are doing Sanders.”

Regaining composure of herself, she straightens out her dress and smooths down her hair. Without any warning, she casually strolls out into the open space and nonchalantly looks around the room. She briefly stops, turns to me and gestures with her head, to come out. It's been a long time since I had that feeling, the one when you had done something naughty as a child and were not looking forward to the repercussions of it? However, this is one of those moments. Dammit Sanders, get a grip. You're a grown man, not a seven year old now.

Isabel gestures with her head again, a bit more vigorous and determined than the last time. In a low, deep tone under her breath, she calls me, almost snarling.

“Sanders, get out here now!”

Now you see. It may have been thought as a good idea to do that, but with the type of room this is, voices echo and carry very easily. So by the time I have stepped out from behind the keg, thirteen pairs of eyes are firmly fixed in our direction.

“Sorry, we were just checking the kegs out.” What? It was the first thing that came into my mind.

Glancing to the side of me, I notice that if Isabel could face palm herself she would do. Instead she attempts to display her most innocent of smiles.

Once all the heads turn to face the front of the room again however, Isabel does actually face palm herself.

*****

Having had the tour, we go on to do the best part of the day, which is again something, Isabel and I agree on...The wine tasting. I will have to say that when it comes to wine or champagne, I do think I have the more refined palate to what Isabel has, but that comes down to me being able to afford such fine wines. So to witness the different faces Isabel pulls as she is tasting some of the White wines is classic. She openly admits that she does not like Chardonnay one bit, too acidic for her, but nonetheless she doesn't like to offend anyone and so tries them all out anyway. The way her eyes and mouth scrunch up, is enough of an indication to her dislike of the liquid. Yet, she is too polite to comment on how disgusting it probably is.

From there we move on to visiting the gift shop and gardens. What is it with folk and Italianate outdoor ornaments? First Ickworth House and now here. The starched white statues of scantily clad women seems to be all the range around here! It is only once we are taking a stroll, that she openly talks about how truly awful some of the wines were. I have to say that I really liked them, but as I say, that's down to personal taste. We're offered a complimentary bottle of wine as we leave, so I let Isabel choose. I know I will like what ever it is she decides up on. No doubt it'll be a Pinot Grigio...as she picks a bottle, I am proven right.

Not that I really want to think about it, but the day is flying by and with this being our final full day here, I am starting to get a bit low. I don't mean to, as I want every moment to be special, but I have to get the idea back into my head, that come tomorrow, Isabel is going to have to go back to her life, back to reality. Although, wouldn't you say everything that we do and experience is reality? It's what you make of it, take away from it and develop. I will certainly be taking away the respect I have for her and her boys. I'd like to think that she is also taking away something similar and looking forward to her future, our future, much more than she was.

That is one subject we have never really spoken about. She has not talked of what she had planned out or how she saw her life going in the long term. She is a woman that takes each day as it comes. Whether that is because she doesn't want to be left disappointed if it doesn't quite pan out the way she had hoped for, I'm not sure, but I am getting that may be the reason behind it. With that, I am starting to think I should take a leaf out of her book.

Live for today and think about tomorrow when we're there. So for that point alone, I take a diversion on the way home.

“Erm! Where are we going?” I can hear the confusion in her voice.

“I'd like for us to stop off at one last place before we head back to the hotel.” I am not usually a man that is so mysterious, but I'm prepared to be so on this occasion, just so I can see the reaction on Isabel's face. I'm prepared to risk anything this one time, I just hope I don't live to regret it.

With her having the knowledge of the area, she knows that I am taking us back into Cambridge. Parking up in the Lionyard car park, I still don't let on to where we're heading. Taking her by the hand we walk past the spectacular architectural buildings in the centre of the city and play 'chicken' with the hundreds of cyclists. By passing several street entertainers, from a small group of authentic windpipe musicians to a death defying, knife juggling act, we reach our final destination.

It would be an understatement to say that Isabel stopped abruptly with both a surprised and shocked expression on her face, it is definitely one expression that will live with me forever! Standing outside the Don Pasquale restaurant, I gently squeeze her hand.

“Would you like to dine inside or out?” The euphemism is not lost on Isabel for one second.

“Marc, how did you? Did you really know?” She finally clicks in. “I told you where I was and you've remembered!” I let her take in her surroundings with her mouth open wide. “Are you wanting me to repeat what you asked of me the other day?”

I beam at the stunned look she has.

“No Isabel. I would like us to dine and then I would also like for us to repeat what I asked of you the other day. This time however, you will have my hands and fingers to do the work for you.”

I watch her physically gulp and take a slow, deep breath. It only takes thirty seconds or so for her to then smile, mischievously.

If only she knew...

“Okay, well in that case, I'd like for us to dine inside please.” Standing on tip-toe, she kisses me softly on the lips.

I wink at her as I lace her fingers with mine and lead her into the bijou entrance to the restaurant. As we walk through the door way, immediately to our right is a glass cabinet, with an illustrious display of cream cakes and pastries. That along with the delicate aroma of pizza and pasta in the air, it is enough to get any mouth watering. Once we get to where the
staff greet you, I hear the booming voice of Jovani, the boisterous character of a man, who happens to own the restaurant and V.I.P lounge upstairs.

“Professor Sanders, it is so good to see you again.” Having lived in Cambridge for half of his life, there is only a hint of an Italian accent left as he speaks. Shaking my hand, the short stocky built man then energetically pats me on the shoulder, several times; each time increasing in force.

“Good to see you also Jovani. Would the usual table be free at all? I am assuming Charles isn't working on a Saturday and therefore not in here.”

Jovani slaps his chest as he releases a roar of laughter.

“No, Professor Smithfield is not here today and so yes, your usual table is free. Here, let me take you.”

This is one occasion I wish I had got a camera on me, as at this precise moment I turn to look at Isabel. It would have been the most hilarious photograph. Her eyes look as though they would pop out if they were to go any wider, the blood has drained from her face and she is yet again, briefly stunned into silence.

Guiding us up a spiral metal staircase, Jovani signals to the corner table. The dim, atmospheric lighting sets the scene perfectly, as a few other diners quietly converse over their dinner or drink.

“Thank you Jovani, I'll let Ms Chambers scan the menu first, although she has been here once before and enjoyed the experience immensely.”

Jovani takes Isabel's free hand and delicately kisses the back of it.

“Really? And what delights did you encounter? I do hope you were satisfied with the service.”

I have to look away from Isabel as I start to laugh.

“Erm! Yes. It was all very nice...Erm! I was very happy, thank you.”

I don't mean to put her in an awkward position, but it is still incredibly funny.

“Yes, I think you did comment on that if you could have, you would have had seconds.”

Isabel squeezes my fingers as tight as she can. I determine she is eager to change the subject and quickly.

“Ah! Bellisimo! Well then it is a huge honour to have you here along with Professor Sanders. May I offer you a glass of something, it will be on the house. Please let me do this for you. My family will be extremely grateful of the wonderful praise you have given us.”

Jovani is beaming with pride and staring at Isabel expectantly.

“That would be lovely thank you. I will have a glass of the house rose please.”

Jovani's face is bursting with pleasure, “Of course and you Professor, what would you like?”

“I will have the same as Ms Chambers, please Jovani. Just a small one for me though. I am sure Isabel would like a large one however.”

To the side of me, Isabel begins to cough uncontrollably. I gently pat her on the back, while Jovani pours her a glass of iced water and passes it to her. Unable to reply, she just nods her head in acceptance and takes a few sips of the water. Isabel freely admits that she has a smutty sense of humour, so we bounce off each other extremely well (If you pardon the pun). For me, it's a great way of getting her to blush, as I love seeing her go all coy, when really, she's the worst one. She eyes me to the side and no doubt she is all ready scheming her revenge.

“Are you Ok Ms Chambers?” The concern on the elderly gentleman's face is apparent.

“Yes, yes. I am fine now thank you and please, call me Isabel.”

We watch on as her face turns back to a fairly normal colouring, which is a big difference from the beetroot colour it was just a moment ago.

Jovani takes leave of us while we settle into our seats. I position us so that we have our backs to the wall, are able to see other people around us and our chairs are in close proximity to one another; sitting side by side at the rectangular table.

Luckily for Isabel, the lighting is fairly muted and so this helps her to relax a little bit more.

“And just how do you plan to do this then Mr Sanders?” Is there a trace of taunting or disbelief, in that I can't follow through with what I have said, in her voice?

“You just sit back, enjoy people watching and leave it in my masterful hands Ms Chambers.”

Subtly I skim my hand over her thigh, which immediately makes her flinch and skin react to the light touch. Inconspicuously, we both scan over the menu. Cathy, a young, dark haired, waitress that Jovani has assigned to specifically wait on us takes our drinks order. Isabel doesn't have her usually glass of white Pinot Grigio, but instead opts for a refreshingly fruity Rose. She explains that this is what she drank the last time she was here and so I am starting to get the idea that she is going to totally re-enact that afternoon...as long as she doesn't push her knife to the floor, I am happy to go along with that.

“So tell me, what would you recommend for us to eat?” This time it is she that raises her eyebrow, so I move my fingers around to the inside of her thigh.