Page 22

“Mmm, morning stranger.” Alex raised her head, kissing him. The bedroom shifted, thanks to her hangover, and she cuddled into the nook of his neck. “Babe, just lie here. Don’t move.” Her hand crept across his smooth chest, desperate to pull him closer, desperate to feel the comfort of his beating heart again. “I need gentle this morning.”

Mark smirked. “Hmmm, that’s not what you growled in my ear a few hours ago, tiger!”

“You’re kidding, right?” Alex whispered into his neck.

“Nope. You ambushed me. I feared for my safety.”

“It’s all so fuzzy…” She glanced up at him, careful not to move too quickly.

“It was…” Mark playfully rolled his eyes back into his head. “…ravenous, but the second time…” He bit his bottom lip, his finger skimming her hip. “I couldn’t string together a coherent sentence afterwards, it was so off-the-charts ah-may-zing—it’s almost like you were trying to convince me to miss my flight.”

Spinning room be damned. She lifted her head, a beaming smile rising. “Did I? Convince you, I mean?”

“Almost.” Mark frowned. “You know I would if I could.”

Alex’s heart sank along with her cheeks. Tears stung her eyes, so she hid her face in his chest. Mark was leaving again, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it, but she could avoid saying good-bye. Good-bye always reminded her of their first fight, before they were lovers, on the stairs of the National. It was the first and last time she had said good-bye and walked away from him. She had made a promise to herself that she would never say it to him again, and she had noticed that Mark never said it to her, either. He parted with ‘see ya soon’, but never ‘good-bye.’ She hated the foreverness of it, and maybe Mark did, too.

“I wish you could come with me, see Lake Altaussee. The mountains are bloody breathtaking.” A loud yawn escaped his mouth. “And you could watch me doing my thing, hanging upside down from a horse.”

“Like that makes me feel better,” she mumbled into his chest. “I wish you would go back to doing theatre. Movie stunts terrify me.”

“They only let me do the easy ones, the bastards. My stunt double earns his wage, believe me, but never mind that. Tell me more about your attachment. How do you feel about it coming to an end?”

“I’d kill for a few more weeks. I love being back at the National. It still feels like our place.” She pressed her lips to his neck. “It’s been hard work, but worth it. I’ve cried and pulled my hair out over Upton Park, but it’s definitely better for it. They’ve really pushed me.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard they’re tough. I’m proud of you, Mouse. A hundred quid says they’ll add your script to their development roster.”

“Even if they don’t, I should be able to shape it into something another theatre might want.”

“Exactly. This experience will lead to other attachments, meetings, creative relationships…”

“And I have that meeting next week at the Garrick about developing something, too. I would love to work with them.”

“It’s all happening!” Mark smiled. “Next thing you know, Whishy will be performing your words. I can see it now…”

Alex grinned. Always her biggest cheerleader, Mark really did think Ben Whishaw would star in one of her plays one day.

“Well, if that’s not inspiration to keep writing, I don’t know what is.” Her finger traced heart shapes on his chest. “I need to keep busy so I won’t miss your pale Irish ass so much.”

“I’ll be back in three weeks.” He hugged her tightly, burying his nose in her messy hair. “And we’ll have time together before I leave for Newfoundland.”

“Yeah, two days.” Alex sniffed beneath her bangs.

“We’ll make the most of them.” Mark glanced over at Sherlock chipping away the seconds, the minutes, like the hands on a doomsday clock. Each click of his arms ticked closer to their own personal midnight when they would be ripped from each other yet again.

Mark’s fingers tenderly moved the hair from her face. “I’ve got an hour before I head to Gatwick.” His eyes bore into hers. “How about a repeat performance?”

“I wish. There’s a jackhammer in my head. I don’t think I can sit up, let alone…”

“I know what might help.” Mark rolled Alex onto her back and lowered himself on top, carefully holding up his weight with his left hand while his right hand stroked her cheek.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled, forcing Mark’s arm to give way and his full weight to drop on top of her. They both groaned and laughed breathlessly, their smiles mirroring each other.

Mark brushed his lips against her mouth. “And here I thought you needed gentle.”

She inhaled his breath and held it, feeling every inch of his body pressed against her skin. “I love you, Mark, always.”

He tilted his head, kissing her softly until Alex let him in, opening her lips and showing him how much he would be missed. She drew him closer, each deepening kiss masking the ache in her heart. He was still there and yet the dread and loneliness of living day-to-day without him was there, too, back again, tarnishing their final hour together. She spread her legs and kissed him faster, harder, desperate to feel the moment and nothing else, but a breathless sob broke through her lips.

“Lex?” Mark panted, his lips soft against hers. His right hand left her ass and trailed over her hip, across her thigh and between her legs, his fingers caressing, circling. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

Alex trembled and kissed him, her damp eyes afraid to blink, afraid to lose him—every minute, every second had to count.

“I love you, Lex, always.”

He kissed her ear, neck, and breasts, sending shivers along her spine. Each press of his lips on her skin, each flick of his tongue…Alex hoped it helped him memorize every freckle, every hollow. Her nails dug into his back as his hand continued to tease.

He looked up and smiled, hovering over her mouth again. “Didn’t I say this would help?” He lowered himself to her lips, parting them quickly with his tongue. The kiss was urgent but caring, needy yet gentle, expressing how he felt when words wouldn’t do. He pulled away and shrugged off the bed covers.

Patient kisses down her stomach gave way to his warm tongue flirting lower and lower, continuing what his fingers had started. Alex shuddered, her breath catching in her throat. She bit her lip, lost in dizziness.

“Mark—oh, God…”

She gasped and arched her back, pressing her head into the pillows. Her eyelashes fluttered closed as she moaned and clutched fistfuls of Mark’s mussed-up hair like she was holding on for dear life.