Chapter 91

Hope struggled into the little dress eagerly, sliding it down over her hips, revelling at the way it clung to the ... well, technically they were curves, she decided after a moment's pause. She wasn't Shawna obviously, but a little more wouldn't hurt.

She'd never used to be that vain, she recalled, but the past few weeks had driven home to her just how different she was to...

It came back to Shawna, really. It wasn't that it wasn't good. She wouldn't want to be anywhere else, but ... Marcus just didn't look at her the way he did at Shawna. It was understandable, she knew. She didn't look at herself the way she looked at Shawna, but it still hurt.

"You OK?"

Marcus' quiet voice cut in from the door where he leant up against the wooden surround, ankles and arms crossed.

"Yeah, why?"

She stared at him in the mirror for a moment, feeling the slight quickening of her pulse as she realised he'd probably watched her getting dressed. Then she remembered how little that meant, and it settled quickly.

"You just looked ... thoughtful?"

She stared at him a moment, seeing the nervousness in his eyes and his stance and wondering with a slightly sinking feeling if this was the end.

"I'm not allowed to think?" She twisted a little, this way and that, making sure the dress hung properly.

"Of course you are. You look good in that."

She turned, looking over her shoulder at him, eyebrows arching a little.

"What?"

"Sorry ... just ... you ... you look good." He tensed a little, obviously uncertain of how she'd taken it.

"Really?"

The broad smile reassured him a little, and he stepped closer.

"Yes, really."

"It's not like Shawna, though, is it?"

It had slipped out before she could stop it.

"She couldn't wear that."

"No, she's all scoop tops and tight jeans. I don't have a bum." She frowned down at her hips, turning a little to stare at it in the mirror.

"And she always moans when you go out in one of your little belt-cum-skirts that she doesn't have legs like yours and how I stare at your legs more than I look at her," he pointed out.

"She does?"

Marcus swallowed, suddenly looking even more nervous. He stepped up behind her and stared into the mirror over her shoulder, his hands wrapping around her upper arms and turning her towards the glass.

"She does, and she's wrong. And you're wrong, too. I don't stare down her scoop tops more than I look at your warm, deep Mars-Bar eyes."

He wrapped his arms around her, towering over her, and she nestled back into him a little, smiling gently.

"Mars-Bar eyes?"

She felt his heart thumping against her back, and knew he was as scared as she was. She took a longer look in the mirror and realised that this wasn't entirely unplanned. He'd come in with a purpose — that's what had triggered her suspicion he was ending things.

"All sweet and caramel and warm and melting."

She smiled, snuggling back into the embrace even more and pulling his arms tighter around her, trying to relax him as much as show her appreciation. He squeezed her gently, his fingers tracing small circles on her flanks. She felt a little of the tension ease out of his arms as he sighed. His breath shifted her hair slightly as he rested his chin on her head.

"I'm just being stupid, aren't I?" she said after a moment.

She opened her eyes to stare at him in the mirror, and, for once, he knew exactly what she was talking about. Her eyes closed again as she leant back into his chest.

"No, you're just feeling your way in. Hell, I keep wondering why the two of you need me around at all, but you seem to."

"We don't." Hope confirmed, closing her eyes again. "We want you around."

"And I want you, too," he whispered. Her eyes flew open as his hand slowly eased up under the hem of the dress, pushing it higher. She stared into his eyes in the mirror feeling the intensity in his look as the slow hands slid around across her stomach, pushing higher.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, suddenly coy in the face of that stare.

"Birthday present," he explained matter-of-factly, lightening his expression with a broad smile.

"Aren't I supposed to unwrap those?"

"You can in a minute. You get mine this morning while Shawna sets up, and then you get Shawna's this afternoon while I tidy up."

"Sounds like you have this all..." She cut off with a soft sigh as his hands found the underside of her breasts, cupping them gently and pulling her back against his chest.

"Planned?" he asked, rolling her nipples between his fingers. Gnawing gently on her bottom lip she just nodded, letting him lift her gently off the floor and carry her to the bed like a child.

"You realise this is the first time for just the two of us," she whispered as he eased the dress up and over her head, leaving her stood in her knickers and a pair of stockings.

"Seemed like as good a present as any," he explained, returning to his explorations, trailing his fingers across her stomach and making her squirm.

"That tickles."

She pushed his hands away, and he dropped over her, suddenly, pressing her into the mattress on her stomach. Reaching around, his hand squeezed her into his chest firmly, making her groan.

"You like that one, though, don't you?"

He seemed puzzled, but she nodded, loving the pressure holding her in place. Keeping the bulk of his weight on her, he reached a hand down inside the slip of satin that served as underwear and began to caress her, building the passion slowly for a while. He could feel the heat rising up through her stomach and watched the flush build across the nape of her neck as he worked.

She went off quietly, a sudden tension and a strangled hiss, but Marcus smiled anyway, and kept on going. As the feeling dissipated, Hope relaxed a little more and turned to nibble gently at his shoulder, encouraging him to work faster.

Marcus' hand began cramping, though, and he eased himself up to a disappointed sigh from Hope. Rolling her over, he reached down and slipped the damp underwear off down her legs. She reached down to start on the stockings, but he took her hands in his, kissing her fingers.

"Let me."

It felt like an age before he'd finished the slow process of rolling them down her leg and easing them off her feet, all the while caressing her skin with his lips.

Knelt at her feet, he smiled down at her, took up a leg, and began to gently rub at her feet, feeling the slight tension in her leg as he did.

"Oh ... Shawna told you about that, then?" She smiled, a slight catch in her voice.

He nodded as he bent a little to run his tongue up between her tiny toes, eliciting a little squeal of excitement from her. She let out the same little squeal and a sigh for each toe and was starting to squirm on the bed again when he switched feet and did the same on the other side.

"Marcus, please ... come here..." she begged, reaching up towards him. He obliged, pressing her down into the bed again, and she felt the pressure building in her abdomen once more.

"What do you want?" he whispered in her ear quietly, thumbs flicking against her nipples firmly.

"Huh? What?" she panted, surprised.

"It's your birthday. What do you want?" He eased his head up a little, pushing the pressure lower on her belly, grinding his groin into hers. "You haven't even unwrapped your present yet."

He let her push him off her with a chuckle and she quickly stripped his t-shirt off over his head, wrapping her arms round his torso and bearing him back onto the floor with a growl, kissing him hard as they went over.