Objects of Desire (30 page)

‘Very pretty.’

‘And you speak to her too?’

‘No. She says “good morning”, that’s all.’

The following morning at breakfast Hadon made the same inquiries, Akito’s answers were the same. On the third morning after Hadon had seen Anoushka, the questions and answers were the same. By the fourth morning he had lost interest as to whether or not Anoushka had appeared at the bakery. He posed no questions to Akito. He knew where Anoushka was and he could find her whenever he wanted to, if indeed he ever did want to. But Akito surprised him.

‘Your lady.’

‘What lady?’

‘The lady in the
boulangerie
.’

‘Oh, that lady.’

‘I saw her this morning.’

‘Oh?’

‘They’re going to lunch at Stephano’s, captain’s treat. The entire crew has twenty-four hours’ leave. It’s a reward for their hard work, and because they’re sailing: a practice cruise, the Greek islands.’ He smiled knowingly at Hadon and then walked away.

Hadon’s immediate reaction to this news was that he would miss the sight of
Black Orchid
in the bay. The luxury of watching anything as beautiful as that schooner leaving in full sail for a day’s cruising, or
returning with a setting sun for a backdrop, was something he would miss. It was as if his best neighbour was going off on holiday.

Another ten days, two weeks at the most, and he would be free of his book. He might take
Easy Rider
, his own boat, on a cruise. The sixty-footer was no
Black Orchid
but Hadon knew how to get the best out of her. Sailing her had always given him enormous pleasure. He looked at her now, moored one side of his wooden dock, the speed boat on the other side. The idea spurred him to get on with his day.

Three hours later, during his coffee break, he surprised even himself when he jogged up to the house to tell Akito, ‘I’m lunching out. Call Stephano and tell him to save me a place. My usual table, I’m dining alone. I’d like a cold supper later. Leave it set up in the kitchen. Flowers on the table, Chablis, and place settings for two. Take the evening out if you like. And do me the courtesy of wiping that smile off your face!’

‘Shall I take a car out?’ asked Akito, trying to hide his surprise and amusement at this break in the working schedule, almost unheard of for Hadon.

‘No. I’ll take the power boat.’

After coffee, Hadon returned directly to the work house. He knew Rab’s form. He would take his party by water to Stephano’s, Hadon’s guess was at twelve o’clock. Right on schedule he watched
Black Orchid
’s speed boat circle round the schooner and head in towards shore. He could see everyone on board quite clearly when Rab swerved away from shore to ride
parallel to Hadon’s property. The boat vanished from Hadon’s view when it rounded the point. From there Rab would follow the coast to the next cove and two others before he would tie up at Stephano’s jetty.

Stephano’s was one of the French Riviera’s best-kept secrets, the perfect restaurant that one dreams of discovering on the Côte d’Azur. It was what every diner dreamed of, what cookery writers wrote about but never found. Not at all prepossessing – something between a string of fishermen’s cottages and a French farm house, built among huge rock formations and caves – it could be reached by boat up rocky steps from its jetty where guests tied their boats fast. Above the house the land flattened out into fields farmed for sunflowers. In the 1990s it was one of the last unspoilt treasures the Côte d’Azur had to offer. Stephano and his family held on to their sunflower fields and their restaurant; no matter what the offer, no real estate developer was getting it in its owner’s lifetime.

Stephano, an Italian, had married a local French girl after the Second World War. The land had been in her family for generations. Before the war he had worked as a chef, and afterwards decided to go back to his old trade. The vegetables came from their fields, the wine was throaty and local, and his Calvados was a dream come true.

The restaurant was unimpressive: dark, low ceiling, white-washed walls, blue-and-white-checked tablecloths, white napkins big as a baby’s nappy, two tables
seating ten people, and two that sat four, one small table for two. Where you ate depended on the weather, what you ate depended on Stephano.

Large sailing yachts and motor cruisers dropped anchor off shore and took dinghies or power boats in. Or you could drive off the main road, down the dirt track through the sunflower fields, and walk the rest of the way down the hill on stone steps to the front of the house to enter the restaurant. That is if you knew how to get there. There were no signposts, and Stephano never advertised.

One table outside and two tables inside were already taken, some of the diners knew Hadon by sight. They stood up to greet him and shake hands. Rab and his party were seated at a table for ten, inside. All eyes were on Hadon as soon as he entered the room. It was cool and inviting inside out of the hot midday sun. A light breeze was blowing through the small casement windows, rippling the blue and white gingham curtains hanging limply on either side of the glass.

Hadon received a rapturous greeting from Stephano and his wife Charmaine. An enormous hug and a kiss on first one cheek and then the other from Stephano which Hadon returned with nearly as much enthusiasm. His wife stopped serving a table to do the same and their teenage son, who waited table, shook Hadon’s hand. Before he could get to the small table by the window where he always sat by himself, or with an elegant and expensive lady of the night, he was
handed a drink: a rough white wine chilled to perfection and poured from a jug. They were still standing by the entrance, the sea clearly visible crashing against the rocks behind them.

Rab excused himself from his table and went to greet Hadon. They patted each other on the shoulder and shook hands.

‘Join us?’ suggested Rab.

‘Too many people. You know me, if I’m not in the mood.’

‘It’s an age since I’ve seen you. I hear you’re locked away, all visitors forbidden. Is the book finished?’

‘No. I’ve just escaped from it for a while. Giving myself a twenty-four hour break.’

‘What a coincidence, so are we. Come on, join us.’

‘No, I think I’ll keep it simple this lunchtime.’

‘But I have two terrific ladies for you to meet.’

‘We’ll skip it today.’

‘As you like, old boy. Nice to see you, Hadon, let’s get it together soon.’

He sat down at his table and only then did he look past the smiling happy faces and directly into Anoushka’s eyes. He could see that his entrance had had an effect on her. She was startled.

Rab said, ‘That’s Hadon Calder.’

‘Oh!’ said Sally, knowing very well that it was his book that Anoushka was translating.

Before she could say another word Anoushka shot her a look that demanded silence. Sally picked that up immediately and changed the subject. ‘Anoushka, try
this.’ And she cut a slice off one of the half dozen salamis stuck in a wicker basket on the table, and handed it to her.

‘That’s a
salame toscano
, mild, sweetly peppery, and the infusion of garlic is done with a light touch. My favourite. Maybe we can get Stephano to sell us one for your crossing,’ said Rab, and handed her a piece of rough home-made bread to go with it.

Anoushka and Sally were thrilled. That was the first indication they had from their captain that they might be making a crossing. They played it cool, knowing that it was early days, anything could happen yet.

The table was already groaning with platters of
antipasti
, including
bruschetta
with a garlicky, dark and delectable purée of aubergine. A pottery dish contained a warm tangle of fennel with a caramelised shiny glow to it. Loaves of several different kinds of bread, including olive bread dense with thinly sliced olives, were lying on the table. The anchovy butter was a gourmet’s delight.

The same fare was put on Hadon’s table. He never thought he was hungry until he had that first whiff of the Stephano cuisine, and now he was ravenous. Today’s choice of pasta, always the first course at the restaurant after the
antipasti
, was no problem for Hadon. Wide straw-coloured ribbons dressed with
porcini
, or ropes of it served with a clam sauce. Or else
gnocchi
: mashed potatoes bound with herbs and flour and whatever other magic ingredients the master chef Stephano used were rolled out and pinched into fat
little ears, dropped into boiling water, drained and served with a pesto sauce and freshly grated
Regiano parmigiano. Gnocchi
always won his favour, hands down.

Today he chose to follow with rabbit studded with juniper berries, fennel seeds, and needles of rosemary, both braised and roasted – one of the great gourmet rabbit recipes of the world.

Hadon glanced over at Anoushka several times until at last their eyes made contact. Just as a woman knows when a man wants her, a man has that same sensibility. They were in like mind about each other. She was digging into her food and enjoying every morsel of it. Anoushka was hungry, but not nearly as hungry for food as she was for him and sex. She had not forgotten their last encounter; he could feel her heat even across the room.

It gave him enormous pleasure to watch her. A plate of soft white goat’s cheese topped with a local, silky smooth, honey was placed down in front of him. Hadon spooned it into his mouth. Sheer ambrosia. The taste triggered his sexual memory. He could think only of the taste and the texture of her cunt. It had been as sweet and exotic as the dish placed before him.

He went to the kitchen door and asked for a bottle of Stephano’s home-made golden
grappa
, flavoured with oranges. Once he had it in hand, he walked from the kitchen door directly to Anoushka and without a word to her or anyone else at the table, took her hand and kissed it. She rose from the chair, they smiled at each
other, and she said, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

Before they reached the door everyone in the restaurant was clapping, raising glasses of wine to toast them, the crew wolf whistling.

Rab called out after them, ‘We sail tomorrow, all hands on deck at fourteen hours. That’s two o’clock, Anoushka.’

She turned and looking over her shoulder, blew him a kiss and told him, ‘I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

Chapter 19

They walked in silence from the restaurant down the first flight of the weatherworn wooden stairs and on to a landing. There he pulled Anoushka up short and, placing an arm tight round her waist, asked, ‘Why didn’t you come to my table, acknowledge me? Can you only want me when you’re in distress?’

‘I’m acknowledging you now,’ she said, slipping her hand under the belt of his trousers and caressing him, feeling the swell of him in her hand. ‘Ah, I see you remember me.’

He laughed and removed her hand and kissed it, then taking it once more firmly in his, he pulled her down the next flight of steps. ‘You look fantastic, and that’s no exaggeration. I could hardly believe it was you when I saw you in front of the
boulangerie
several days ago. Akito is my housekeeper.’

‘Why didn’t
you
say something, acknowledge me?’

‘I’m a man of habit. It had been great sex, it was over. I never rekindle things. We’d agreed a one-night stand and that was that. No future, remember?’

Anoushka gazed intently into Hadon’s eyes. Finding men’s demands and ultimatums no longer of interest to her, she said, ‘Good, I hate lukewarm anything. Then we’ll have to begin again.’

She broke away from him and ran down the remainder of the stairs and on to the jetty. Very sure of herself and him, she waited for Hadon to reach her.

‘Here, take this,’ he said, and handed her the bottle of
grappa
. He jumped down into his boat and reached up, arms at the ready. She jumped into them. He pulled her to him. She felt good. Her audacity excited him.

In one quick movement he put her away from him and slid her tee shirt up over her head. He stood back to have a better look at her naked breasts and without hesitation clasped one with both his hands, caressing it, and fed the nipple into his mouth to suck on it voraciously.

She tensed immediately. It was sexual tension, the sort that comes from wanting not to hold back, but to hold on to every nuance of sensation she was experiencing. He unbuckled the Navaho belt and unzipped the blue jeans. He felt the flesh of her mound in his hands and squeezed hard on it before finding her willing slit. With deft fingers, he parted the cleft and his fingers toyed with the soft, warm, silky inner lips of her cunt. His hands were large, his fingers long and slender, very sexy.

He knew what she could do, how much she could give, what excited her. Unceremoniously he thrust his
fingers deep inside her and was amazed as he kissed her wildly, sucked her tongue into his mouth, bit hard into her lips, how much he wanted her. Unable to stop himself, his lips went from her mouth to her breasts. His sucking was urgent and powerful, unrelenting. Hadon felt her giving in to him and his rage of passion for her became more violent. His lips moved to between her breasts and there he licked her flesh, sucked it into his mouth. She tasted sweet. He calmed himself somewhat when he felt that tiny shudder and her first orgasm flow over his fingers. Reluctantly and with some finesse, he relinquished her cunt and placed his fingers in his mouth, sucking them, wanting to share in her bliss.

Anoushka was so moved she had to place her hands over her face, if for no other reason than to break his lustful gaze. Their erotic desires had somehow taken them over, commonsense had been abandoned. They were in too public a place for how they felt about each other and where they wanted to go with that. He caressed her shoulders with a degree of tenderness that made her want to melt. He closed her jeans and buckled the belt, took her hand in his and held it while keeping her close to him. Turning the key, Hadon started the motor, Anoushka pulled in the line, and he swung the boat away from the jetty. At full throttle, he sent the boat speeding across the water. It was a rough ride at such speed and in such a small craft but they hardly noticed.

She was quick in hoisting herself up on to his dock
and tying the power boat fast to it. She leaned over the boat and her still naked breasts, so large and fully rounded, swung provocatively above Hadon’s face as she extended a hand to help him on to the dock. Did she know how much she was teasing and taunting him with her sexuality? He was quite mad to have her.

She broke into his thoughts when she reminded him, ‘My shirt?’ He had handed her the bottle of
grappa
but had indeed forgotten her shirt, preferring her naked and vulnerable to him. He was quick to retrieve it, and then, with it still in his hand, was there on the dock beside her.

There was about them both a pent-up sexual energy asking to be released, begging to be made the most of. There was also sexual chemistry, erotic freedom, between them. They knew that, not only from their mutual erotic hunger for each other now but from a one-night sexual past. Together they had tasted real sexual honey, sexual ecstasy, bliss, oblivion, those same things that they wanted from each other now.

Anoushka walked up the cliffside on the stairs that criss-crossed it, past the beach house, the work house. She was enchanted. She had somehow not imagined Hadon would live in such natural splendour – but then, she had not imagined him or anything about him at all.

From the water’s edge to the patio doors of the drawing room in the main house all she could exclaim was: ‘Wonderful!’

Hadon was no sooner into his drawing room than he
was peeling off the blue and white checked shirt he was wearing and dropping it on the floor. Anoushka had forgotten how much she had liked his naked flesh. She caressed his shoulders and a shock of pleasure, warmth, went through her.

Once again he unbuckled the Navaho belt. This time he pulled it sharply from the loops of her jeans and tossed it on a chair. He was out of his own jeans, naked and with a massively erect penis when he turned her round. He wanted to see the back of her, that delicious bottom in tight jeans that had provoked his hunger for her when he had seen her in front of the
boulangerie
.

He placed his hands on her hips and caressed them while he indulged himself with a long and hungry look at her buttocks. He embraced her thighs, her bottom, liking the way she filled her jeans. She felt incredibly taut and sexy in his hands. He fondled her flesh through the seam between the cheeks of her bottom and followed it down to between her legs, scratching and teasing the denim that covered her cunt so solidly. The flesh so tightly bound in denim – buttocks, cunt, thighs, pussy, hips, the fleshy mound, sexy tummy – provocative as hell, as was the way she moved to his caresses, begging for more without saying a word.

Hadon was losing himself to his pleasure: making love to this body in his hands. He spun her round to gaze into her eyes, and pulled her tight against him. With barely room between them for his hand to open her jeans, he did and pulled them down to below her hips and just above her knees. Now he was able to
caress her naked buttocks, the back of her thighs, to grab a fleshy orb firmly in his hand. Hadon bit hard the soft skin but firm flesh of a breast.

Breathlessly, in a voice husky with lust, she told him quite unashamedly, ‘Hadon, it feels so good, your wanting me, to feel my cunt throbbing for cock.’ She whispered in his ear, ‘Come and come again and again, until I’m drowning in your come.’ She spurred him on, telling him, ‘Whatever it takes, to get there, to get to that sexual high, do it for
us
!’

‘And what if it’s everything? Beyond even reason or morality, and we sink into sexual depravity?’

‘If we trust each other, we’ll come to no harm.’

His kisses now were more urgent, more passionate. ‘Then there’s no turning back for us,’ he told her as he swept her off her feet and carried her to the sofa. He removed her espadrilles, dropped them to the floor and roughly yanked her jeans off her legs.

Anoushka was a lady who enjoyed her orgasms and had them in abundance once she let her ego drop away. It was then that she became all female sexuality and nothing else. He liked that in women, but there were few who understood that over the top sexuality was the norm for them. Anoushka did and that is very seductive to a man. It was to Hadon. It set her apart from most women.

He knew what she wanted, and what he wanted to give her: deep penetrations, to fill her fully with penis, so that neither of them knew where penis began and cunt left off. A sexual intercourse where they were
together as one, cock and cunt in total accord.

He barely looked at this body he was so eager to possess; urgency didn’t allow for such a luxury. He pulled her off the sofa and bent her over the back of it. Spreading the cheeks of her bottom and her cunt lips open he was able to view her in all her most intimate glory before he entered her in one fell swoop. His thrust was swift and deep, and before she finished calling out in a scream of uncontainable passion he had found his pace and was fucking her sublimely.

Hadon gave Anoushka not a moment to catch her breath between such powerful thrusts and withdrawals. She was limp, passive, the perfect receptacle for him. Having no defences against such an onslaught of lust, she took it all, and wanted more. But the libido knows how to eke out every last vestige of will to go that much further, experience always that little bit more, when searching for that elusive sexual moment of bliss. He sensed her holding her breath, her body being made rigid, how she was holding on and holding on, for as long as she could. Release. She went lax, let go her breath, gave in body and soul to coming and orgasm, her passion for sex and all things sexual, to her love of men and cock, of being penetrated. She yearned for Hadon to come, to fill her with sperm.

Anoushka went with her emotions, she spurred him on with lustful rantings that excited him to fuck her without mercy. She braced herself against the sofa so he could pummel her with his cock.

It was so thrilling, this fuck with Anoushka, so
delightful to take her from behind like this, to hear her lewd and flattering talk about his virility. She was giving him everything he liked. He was on the edge, ready to fire hot seed into this ravishingly exciting woman, but Hadon was a master of sexual control. He withdrew, held himself back for a few minutes.

He kept whispering in her ear while using his fingers to pleasure her; how he wanted to give her more, to inflict upon her his sexual dominance. She brought out all his male fantasies and they became even more exciting for his knowing she would allow them to become reality. She moved her bottom to the rhythm of his penetrating fingers. He loved her bottom, so provocative, so very sensual, so untamable. The Navaho buckle caught his eye. Without thought he reached for her belt and wielded it against the smooth soft skin. She cried out, more from surprise than pain. A pink welt rose against her skin, and again he whacked her. She tried to reach behind her to grab the belt. She needn’t have bothered, his sadistic act steered his lust to love her, not beat her. He threw it across the room and plunged his still hard and throbbing penis into her with all the passion that erotic love demands.

He wanted to take not only her cunt to make his own but all her orifices. All that held him back was that he was too big, she was unprepared, and they needed a scented cool cream to ease the way. The very thought of sodomising her was too much, he could no longer
hold back. He came in a long and strong orgasm. He grasped her to him, held her tight, his hands caressing her breasts. He was not normally a man to come with such abandon as to scream. Now he did, and cursed, and pulled on her hair and bit into her back. For a few seconds they both sailed together into a sweet sea of come and ecstasy.

Hadon held Anoushka there in that awkward position until he could gain control of himself. Had he not, they might have collapsed to the floor, so weak were they from their coupling. Minutes went by, he resting his head on her back, listening to their hearts pumping. Finally, with a great sigh, Hadon withdrew and swept her into his arms. He carried her through the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. There he laid her on the bed and lay down next to her. They turned on their sides to face each other. Tears stained his cheeks. Sheer release, pent-up emotion set free, surprise, fear. Like it or not, he had fallen in love.

Anoushka kissed his eyes dry and then his lips were the recipient of her kisses, sweet kisses, loving kisses. She nibbled at his lips and licked them with the point of her tongue. She climbed on top of him, straddled him, and her hands caressed him. She worked his nipples with hungry lips and sucking mouth, a tongue that kept them moist and shiny. She watched his penis come alive again. She liked the excitement in his eyes. The taste of his noble penis. Their orgasms, his and hers, were for Anoushka an aphrodisiac. She slid herself down his body, gathered his penis in her hands
and held it to her lips. She licked it and the inside of his thighs, caressed his scrotum with her tongue. She tried to gather all of him into her mouth, wanting to make love to him, wanting to nurture him and excite his lust, his sexual hunger, his new-found love for her.

He watched her, seeing her in a different light. That of a man in love with a woman who understands male sexual needs, the sexual fantasies that occupy so much of a man’s life. He was moved by the way she made love to him, slowly, taking command of his body, taking control of their sexuality.

She slipped off his body and lay on her side next to him, leaning on an elbow. He had forgotten what a voluptuous creature she was, this Anoushka who had stolen his heart. He gazed now at every inch of her body, and realised why he had found her mound so seductive. She no longer had the blonde silky triangle of hair. She had shaved her mound clean, it was smooth as a child’s yet not like a child’s for she had left an inch-wide band of pubic hair clipped short down the centre of it. It was unbelievably erotic. He had had an expensive Chinese lady of the night who had groomed her pussy that way. He had found it quite delectable to go down on her and subsequently had asked of several of his amours that they groom themselves like his Chinese lady. This surprise delighted him. He found it beautiful; so feline, erotic, irresistible.

He couldn’t bring himself to speak of it to Anoushka, so moved that even in this she pleased him. Instead he kissed the narrow band of clipped pubic hair, licked it
to leave it moist with his saliva. Then he lay back against the pillows, his arm round her shoulders. She leaned into him, rested her head on his chest, and they watched him fondling the cleft in her decorative mound, he stroking her clitoris while they lay content with each other and the erotic world they were creating for themselves.