After All - Part Fifty Three

Chapter Fifty Three

Sorry at the delay AGAIN. really wanted to get this right, it's been really hard getting this right in my eyes. Hope this is how you all feel things should go. Couple more chapters to go, the next story is already infiltrating, another reason why finishing this one is so hard!

Thanks for reading, MZxxx

Dylan was amazed. She’d followed him, said what she said without realising what he’d offered her. Suddenly it all changed, he’d presumed she’d chased him knowing all that he’d put on the table, the fact that she hadn’t even looked... He’d sat at his computer earlier trying his best to think of what he could do, how he could manage to make this work, and he’d then thought of the hotel. Him taking it over had been where this had all changed, but if he gave her some sort of foothold in his company, then he could make her the owner, the hotel could be hers to run, hire, fire, profit or loss. He’d hoped that would make her happy, that she’d know that things could work out even if they didn’t decide to try again. That he was separating their work from their relationship, giving her the freedom he’d taken away. That ugly argument and her resigning was always in the back of his head.  

He’d hoped that was the white dove, the flag of surrender. But as he watched her turn towards him he could see anger on her face.

                “Were you about to buy me off? Was that what this was?”

He rolled his eyes as Matilda stared at him, “are you going to take this the wrong way too? Bloody hell woman! How many hoops do I have to jump through?”

She shrugged, “this was the gesture? I can’t fathom it. This is the price you put on us?”

He grabbed her hands and shook his head, “NO. This is me thinking of the big picture. I know that you feel vulnerable, that you’ve been looking for other jobs. But you are the hotel. It is more about you than it ever was about me. You wanted me to prove that I was serious; you wanted to know how I feel? Well this is how I feel. I honestly believe I’ve taken away your stability...again. I want you to feel safe, independent. Working for me, with me...it’s never going to work long term, not if we’re living together too.”

                “Living together?” she breathed not sure how the tone of the conversation had changed to swiftly.

He nodded, “of course...I know you don’t want to rush things, but I’m planning, I’m looking to the future.” He reached for the envelope and opened it, pulling out further papers. “You’ll take this wrong too, I’m sure. But these are prospectuses, all the housing projects, new builds, major renovations, happening between the hotel and London, they won’t be ready for several months, but I thought we could look, plan ahead.” As she made to protest he shook his head, “no. Don’t talk. Listen. I have let you do everything you want to punish me, I know I was wrong and I let you whip me as hard as I have castigated myself, I get that. But do you want to hear what I want? How I see our future?” She gave a silent nod, “I sat today and tried to think how I could prove to you that I was serious, that I want a future with you. And all I could do was think of what I wanted. And what I saw was you running the hotel, more than competently...” he smiled. “Me, occasional trips overseas, but mainly managing things from home...not a London apartment sterile, devoid of life, but a house, a home, decorated with pictures from our holidays, filled with colour and life. That’s what I want...you, a home, a life.”

He saw her gasp, take in a quick rushed breath, “really?”

He nodded, “it’s what I wanted six years ago, I was just too stubborn to admit it. You know how rubbish my life has been, if I think today about ‘home’, well it’s our little flat that patchwork quilt, the tiny kitchen, a home filled with life and love...since I met you, you made me realise what I wanted from life. You...me...a warm friendly home...nothing like my mother’s. I want kids...I told you that, and I know that I hurt you with my actions over that...but it was guilt at myself, guilt at what I’d forced on you, nothing else. I swear.”

He took a deep breath, he was throwing his heart at her feet, he could only hope it was enough. “But I know one thing; I want you more than anything else. I want to come home to you every day, I want to wake with you every morning, I want to spend my life with you, forever.”

Matilda wondered if she would pass out. She was hyperventilating as Dylan stared at her, every emotion on his face, whilst a million of her own emotions were surging through her veins. She’d craved this, his honesty, his intentions, and had no idea he’d be so frank, so brutally honest, and so open...but he made the future sound so simple. Buying houses, running the hotel. As she deliberated all that he said, tried to process it, he took her hands.

                “Don’t mistake a grand gesture for me being blasé. This,” he gestured at the documents he’d put in an envelope, “this is what I want...what I see in the future. Ok? How we get there? Well if it was up to me, I’d go to your room pack up everything and move you lock stock and barrel into MY life. But I know that you need time, I know that things aren’t that simple. But if you doubt that I’m realistic, if you doubt that I don’t want you forever...” he sighed. “Just don’t. OK?”

She felt tears well at her eyes, whatever she’d wanted from him, this was so much more, this was Dylan opening his chest, revealing his beating heart, and with it his deepest darkest vulnerability. She felt like yelling ‘SNAP’, because she’d done the same back in London and he’d walked all over her in angry stamps. But instead she stepped up to him, lifting her hand to cup his cheek, then landing her lips on his as she craned up on tip toes.

The kiss was furious, aggressive, demanding, all of the things it should be, and she melted into his arms. Knowing she could have quite happily died there at that moment.  But it was a discreet cough that caused them to pull apart. Matilda blushed at the waiter who stood there awkwardly smiling. They hadn’t touched their starters, so both smiled apologetically then sat to eat. But now, instead of that awkward tension, there was a different type of anxiety in the air.

Dylan in his seat stared at her, a devouring look as he picked at his food, every now and again finding something he wanted her to taste, stretching out his fork, encouraging her to share his delight. She began doing the same. Then his knees brushed hers. Her eyes snapped to his and he gave a lazy grin.

How the hell was she going to tolerate another two courses when he was setting her on fire with a quick glance or touch?

The meal was tantamount to torture, as the food arrived; Matilda managed to eat, despite the lump of anxiety wedged in her throat. The conversation was light, very neutral, comments on the freshness of the fish, the tartness of the lemon and lime sorbet or the succulence of the steak. Because the food was perfect. But all the while his eyes were seducing her, reaffirming all that he had promised verbally. Up until now she’d had the upper hand, for the first time in their relationship, but since his heart wrenching and toe curling confession, he was back in control, and she was all agog with what that meant.

                “Dance?” she was sipping champagne when Dylan’s voice penetrated her brain.

She looked up to meet his eyes and smiled, “ok.”

As he stood, he held out a hand and reached for hers, when she lifted hers to grab it, he tugged her to her feet, then into his body. His arms sliding around her spine, and she melted into him. There was music, it was distant, but enough that they could sway in time to the beat. Dylan’s chin was against her head, his heart beating loudly against her cheek. It was the most intimate moment she could ever remember experiencing, there was so much unsaid between them, so much already said. Promises made, plans discussed, though the actual details were still not sorted. And she was struggling to focus on them for his pounding heart, and her throbbing libido.

In reality Matilda knew that it was too soon to just become Dylan’s housemate, to slide into a full on relationship before they’d become acquainted to each other, they had to date, get to know each other again, but she wasn’t filled with fear over that any more, in fact she was looking forward to debating who’s room they went to when they got back to the hotel. Because in his arms, she knew that was inevitable, if the restaurant they were adjacent to hadn’t been so busy, she’d have thrown herself at him there and then.

                “Let’s go.”

His voice was a whisper at her ear, and said her body buzzing, she gave a brief nod, smiling at the fact that he could just lead her out of the hotel, there was no bill to pay, nothing to settle, he’d planned the night to perfection. Her hand felt small in his as he led her out into the humid night.

                “You do not want to know what I’m thinking now.”

For a moment she wondered if she’d misheard him, when she glanced up at his face he was staring ahead, no hint that he’d turned her to mush with one comment.  It wasn’t until he chuckled that she could break into a smile.

                “I could be awkward...”

He shook his head, “no matter what you say, you are coming back to mine, tomorrow you’ll move in to my suite.” When she made to protest, he lifted a hand to silence her. “I know, we can’t rush things...we’re on holiday. We would never have separate rooms, when we get back to London, we’ll work things out.”

                “How?”

He looked down at her sharp retort, “I told you. The homes I want you to look at...they won’t be ready for a while. Until then, you can have the apartment...I’ll spend SOME nights in the hotel, or New York...after all I have a life going on there too. We’ll work it out. I promise. When we move in together it’ll be because we’re both ready for it, and it’s the only option. OK?” He started to walk, his arm now across her shoulder, her body pulled in to him. “Anyway, London can wait, until we’ve finished this holiday.”

As he opened the door to his suite, she marvelled at the view, she’d not appreciated it fully earlier, moving towards the window she stared out at the calm sea only illuminated by the moon. She could hear Dylan moving around behind her, but she was taking the moment to relax, switch off.

His arm encircled her waist at the moment his lips appeared on the back of her neck, “you ok?”

She nodded, turning in his arms, “this is perfect isn’t it?”

Smiling he swiped his lips over hers, “YOU are perfect.”

They’d talked, they’d fought, and finally they had reached a truce, mutual ground, for the first time in a long time, they both knew what the other wanted, how they felt about each other, and that they didn’t want. As his lips lowered to his, she met him in the middle, parrying his every attack. But this was a delicious battle, and one that Matilda would relish every day of her life if she could.

Her dress seemed designed to fall from her body, just a tug at the shoulder straps divested her of it, and Dylan groaned at the sight of her reflected in the dark glass. Then he scooped her into his arms, carrying her into the bedroom they’d shared the previous night, her hands found the buttons at the front of his shirt, sliding on to his warm skin as he kicked the door shut behind them. Billowy white drapes covered the windows, but a gentle breeze caused them to flutter in a mesmerising way.

Dylan released her legs, letting her slither down his body, and both moaned as their charged bodies connected along the full length. Her lace clad breasts connected with his bare chest, her thigh snuggled between his, and Dylan loomed over her. But nothing was more equal, more perfect and more right.

Within seconds they were both naked, and Dylan surged into her, right there, stood pinned against the drapes, not even making it as far as the bed. It was fast, furious, but what they both needed, and as their pounding bodies recovered, Dylan managed the stagger to the bed, and lowering them both to the mattress, they started round two, another battle in the war they both hoped lasted a lifetime.

How many times it had happened, how many ways they’d expressed their desire for each other, she couldn’t say. But it was both exhaustive, and completing. If she’d had the slightest doubt over Dylan’s seriousness he expelled it there and then with her wrapped around him attentive to every nuance. Now...she ached, but the heat of desire was still there, the man beside her ignited her in a way no one else ever had. Her hand slid across his stomach, and resting a little too low, it elicited a groan from him. Giggling she place a kiss on his shoulder, they both needed sleep.

                “Sorry.”

He grinned, eyes still closed, “don’t ever apologise, just need a rest. Booked a boat to take you out on tomorrow.”

She groaned, “lovely as it sounds I want to spend time here...with you.”

He opened a single eye and turned to look at her, “you little nymph you! For the record, it’ll be just the two of us on the boat, so I’m sure you can have your wicked way with me.” When she grimaced he laughed, “I can assure you it isn’t a simple dinghy.”

She stretched, wriggling alongside him, “but still...”

It was his turn to silence her with a hand to her delectable buttock, “we need to make the most of our time here in paradise...as we’re flying to see your father in five days.”