Chapter Seven
The next few weeks tested Carla’s mettle as a manager. The enormous task of gathering workers skilled in their craft proved challenging. Carla worked on a timetable that ensured each worker wasn’t in the way of another while pursuing specialized tasks. The language barrier didn’t make her task any easier. Estelle was always around as she had her hands full stocking the kitchen and making sure the men were fed. It always felt like a fiesta when the lunch bell rang with workers filling up banquet tables set outside.
Thankfully, Hans, a teenage boy and the son of the lead carpenter, assigned himself as her go-to guy. He knew the town well and assured her he could procure whatever she needed.
Today they were working on the exterior paneling, the Mann with the vertical beams in letter K. Carla was upset when Falcon decided earlier he wanted the beams stripped away opting for wooden claddings to replace the Ks.
Carla argued about the historical significance of the K style. Falcon was adamant.
“I don’t need to have my virility announced to the world. I know who I am,” he dismissed her argument.
Carla conceded and offered an alternative of decorative wood designed clads. It would make the house look more modern and yet retain the timeless appeal of wood.
Falcon agreed.
But it brought a particular problem. She needed a specialized band saw to make sure the wood fitted perfectly. The workman insisted that on using a traditional wooden saw. Carla tried to explain thru Hans that it wasn’t as precise as a band saw. The argument went back and forth with Hans trying desperately to get her message across. Carla threw her hands up in frustration.
The poor boy tried to diffuse the situation by promising he would scour the whole of Alsace till he found what she needed.
Carla had no cause for complaint. They were on schedule and the house was slowly taking shape. But she felt frustrated at not being able to say exactly what was on her mind. She and Falcon had settled down to a routine where he either stayed around or left after breakfast and retuned to have dinner with her. It irked her that he was mum about what he did in town and instead spent dinners talking about her progress.
He disappeared again earlier and Carla assumed he was headed back to town.
“He probably has a French girlfriend hidden somewhere,” she grumbled.
The thought was so unappealing she scowled.
“Something wrong,” Falcon asked appearing suddenly.
“Oh! I thought you were gone,” Carla replied taken by surprise.
“No, I’m here. But you didn’t answer my question.”
Where do you go each time you leave?
But she had no right to ask that.
Instead she said, “I was in argument with your carpenter. I never realized the French are so obstinate. Maybe it has something to do with me being a girl. They can’t accept being bossed around.”
Falcon laughed out loud. “The men are actually in awe of you.”
“Humph!”
“They are,” Falcon insisted. “They call you the Iron lady behind your back.”
Then he came close. “When was the last time you took a break from all these?”
“I’ve been to Alsace a couple of times,” She replied. She didn’t admit she hoped she would run into him there.
“Its so small you must have seen everything a couple of times already.” His eyes twinkled. “I have an idea that will make you feel better. Why don’t we go back to Paris today?”
It’s a 5-hour drive, you know.” Carla dismissed the suggestion thinking he was just teasing.
“less than an hour if we take the chopper, or have you forgotten?” Falcon replied earnestly.
“But-but I can’t just leave,” Carla argued. “There’s so much more to do.”
“It’ll still be here when we return and I think you need a break.” Falcon replied.
Suddenly the thought of being back in Paris sounded exhilarating. She still had reservations about skipping work and stood there undecide.
“If you’re not ready in 5 minutes, I swear I’ll take off without you,” Falcon warned.
It was enough to send Carla flying towards the stairs, when a thought struck. “What do I wear?” She had no idea what his plans were.
“Just grab your purse or whatever it is you women think important,” he replied.
Carla did as she was told noting that she had on a pair of ripped jeans and a simple shirt. She chucked the working shoes she had on and exchanged it for a pair of sneakers. If they were going to do a lot of walking, at least she was ready, she thought.
The short trip to Paris was conducted in easy silence. Carla had grown used to his presence she no longer felt jumpy around him. It was like the progress she was making with his house, developing quite well, just like their relationship. He often teased her, poked fun at miserable attempt at French, indulged her when she wanted something done her way.
Carla in turn had learned to read him quite well. She knew when he was happy, satisfied, or irritated. She learned when to sweet-talk him and when accepted his decision without a fight.
The familiar face of Charles from Hotel Plaza Athenee greeted them at the airstrip. Carla suppressed her excitement over the idea that Falcon probably booked them for an overnight stay, again.
After the usual amenities they were on their way. Carla leaned back in the luxury leather of the limo drinking in the sites that was slowly becoming familiar in her memory. The city sidewalks were bustling with pedestrians holding valises or tourists lugging shopping bags while taking photographs of the city. The limo made its way to Rue Saint-Honore in the 1st arrondissement before coming to a stop.
Carla looked at Falcon curiously as Charles opened the door for her.
“Where are we going,” she asked.
“You’ll see,” he replied mysteriously holding out his hand.
Carla gladly held on to him as he led her down the street before making a quick turn to a hidden alley. At the end was an arched doorway that was partially hidden by climbing hydrangea. Falcon pushed it open. Inside was a quaint foot path that led to another door. Falcon rang the bell and the door was answered by a tall thin woman with graying hair that she allowed to hang freely around her shoulder. The woman’s eyes were heavily lined with mascara giving her a menacing appearance that vanished when she caught sight of Falcon.
She threw her arms around him in delight.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, you naughty boy?”
“I didn’t know I was coming,” Falcon replied. “Carla meet Esmee. Esmee here is Paris’ best kept secret.”
Carla wondered who Esmee was until the woman enlightened her. “I make clothes that sell in couture houses. I sell them cheap, a famous designer adds his own label, then… voila! He makes ten times more profit.” She laughed then added, “Falcon and I work together for his fashion brand, Live Glow. I think it’s a silly name and I’ve told Falcon that.”
Carla smiled.
“Esmee has fabulous workmanship in the things she creates,” Falcon added then stepped away with her.
Carla wondered what they were doing here. Esmee then proceeded to walk around her like some predator then stepped back and clapped her hand.
“A size 6, I would guess.” Esmee declared before disappearing into a back room.
“What exactly are we doing here,” Carla asked in a stage whisper.
Falcon merely shrugged his shoulder.
Esmee reappeared pushing a garment rack into the room. Dresses in various styles, lengths and colors displayed from hangers. She pulled one out, shook her head before returning it to the rack. Carla thought she heard the words “Grand Palais” and “Le Louvre,” under her breath.
Esmee examined another dress then smiled. It was a fit and flare intricate burgundy dress with rounded neckline, sleeveless, and fell just above the knee.
The designer looked at Falcon for approval. He nodded slightly.
“Falcon, what…” Carla, still clueless, started to protest.
Esmee commandeered her to a dressing room where she was told to strip and put on the dress. It fitted like a dream. Esmee was delighted even as she began rummaging in a drawer before pulling out a pair of brown block sandals with heels to match the dress.
“We need to do something about the hair, Esmee mumbled, as she pulled away the band that gathered Carla’s hair.
“That’s better,” Esmee approved at the locks that tumbled to Carla’s shoulders. I presume you have some lipstick and blush in your purse? You have glowing skin and that’s all you need. I always believed less is more.”
Carla felt like a robot as Esmee ushered her back to the room. “She’s perfect,” Esmee declared as Falcon looked on approvingly.
They left the atelier with Carla still in shock.
“Falcon, I can’t even begin to imagine how much this dress cost…”
“It’s a gift.” Falcon replied.
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“How about “thank you” and let’s not hear another word about it please,” he pleaded.
Charles was waiting as they rounded the corner. Carla silently boarded and kept quiet.
Falcon reached for her hand. “I like this docile side of your nature,” he teased.
Charles brought them to an imposing building and from the architectural design of columns and arches, Carla concluded it had to be an opera house.
“Welcome to the Palais Garnier,” Charles intoned as he opened the door for them.
Carla understood why she needed to change. She couldn’t imagine traipsing the halls of the opulent building in her jeans and sneaks. The decadence of the architectural masterpiece wouldn’t allow it.
Everything took her breathe away. She gazed speechless at spectacular arabesques, strolled down a decadent foyer with mirrors, painting mosaics and chandeliers that blinded her. They ascended the famous staircase, the Grand Escalier, to gaze at the statue of the Prophetess Pythia. Everything was opulent, dazzling in gilded gold.
They emerged hours later and was driven to the Louvre, another piece of architecture that left Carla drooling. Inside they were met by a guide who led them through a private tour. Carla stood in awe in front of masterpieces that had brought the Louvre tremendous fame.
The Mona Lisa by Da Vinci, the Venus de Milo, the Winged Victory, the Raft of Medusa, the Dying Slave by Michelangelo and other world-renowned painters that she only read about in Art class. They were all there for her to see and admire.
It was as if time stood still. She could stay here forever and just drown in all the historical wonders The Louvre had to offer. But the tour had come to an end and it was time to go. She was actually surprised how dark the sky had become when they finally emerged.
“You must be famished,” Falcon declared.
Carla nodded noting they hardly stopped for lunch. He must be hungry too.
Falcon took her to dinner at Verjus, a charming restaurant on the Rue de Richelieu. One can hardly tell by its unmarked iron gate, well-worn steps and gray painted doors that it was one of the best places to eat in Paris.
Falcon pored over the menu before deciding what they wanted. Dinner started with Lasagne of Dorset crab, beurre Nantais & pea shoots. Next came Roast chateaubriand of Cumbrian beef, truffle Pomme purée & artichokes, followed by Fillet of Cornish wild halibut, Jerusalem artichoke purée, artichokes barigoule & Bayonne ham. Carla lost herself in every dish that came along. Everything was mouthwateringly delicious. Accompanied by the perfect wine meticulously selected for each course, it capped a perfect day for Carla.
***
Back at the Plaza Athenee, Carla discovered that Falcon booked the same rooms where they stayed the first time she arrived in Paris. She kicked off her shoes and padded barefoot towards the glass doors leading to the balcony. She stepped outside and closed her eyes to savor the balmy breeze. The majestic Eiffel glowed in the distance.
Carla wanted to etch permanently into her mind everything she had seen today. She knew that nothing in her life compared to being in Paris and seeing all the glorious sights the city had to offer. And it was all thanks to Falcon.
“What are you thinking,” his voice addressed her.
Carla turned to see that he had come to join her. It occurred fleetingly he had finally breached the door that separated their bedrooms. But at that very moment, it didn’t seem to matter. It almost felt like the most natural thing in the world.
He stood behind her and placed both hands gently on her shoulders.
“I’m thinking that I’m sorry I lied to you,” Carla replied.
“Lied to me about what?”
“Telling you that I regret ever having slept with you.”
An intake of breath followed her confession.
She turned around so that she faced him. He was so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body. She reached up and caressed the side of his cheek allowing her thumb to trace the outline of his eyebrows, his nose, lips and chin. Then she reached for the back of his head and pulled him close as his lips met hers in a kiss.
For Carla it was an innate desire to be recognized for who she was, a separate entity from all the Lindsay Davenports in his past. But she was unprepared for the sensory overload that was the taste, smell and touch of Falcon. Her arm snaked across his back in an attempt to bring him even closer, an explicit signal that she wanted more.
She released her lips slightly allowing the tip of her tongue to play against the soft tissue of his lips. Falcon gave an audible groan before his lips claimed her tongue and held it captive.
Emboldened by the sound if his pleasure, she freed herself from his lips and explored the skin on the side of his neck. The smell of his cologne still lingered. The mix of essential oils on his skin was heady and intoxicating. She grazed his chin. The beginnings of a six o’clock tickled her.
She felt Falcon caress her the narrow of her waist even as her own hand hands explored the various planes on his back. It felt firm and solid to the touch. With only a slight hesitation, her hands travelled even lower to his buttocks and she gave it a slight squeeze. It felt compact, almost solid like a rock.
“Carla…” she heard the breathy sigh escape his lips. “You don’t know how much I wanted to see you again, how much I wanted to hold you and kiss you, how frustrated I was being unable to do so.”
Carla heard the honest longing in his voice and believed him. It made her euphoric just thinking she had no sole proprietorship on the torment she felt all these weeks. She understood that he must have been torn between getting the property and seeing her again. It was enough.
She drew back and led him inside the bedroom. Falcon went around to her back. She stood still as he unzipped her dress, felt him open it even as he gathered her hair to one side and kiss the back of her neck. The touch of his lips on the sensitive skin of her nape and shoulders made the hairs on her body stand on ends. Then his hands reached for the hen of her dress and hoisted it over head leaving her half-naked.
He turned her around gently facing him. He unbuttoned the front of his shirt before taking them off. Carla was hypnotized by the sprinkling of hair on his chest that narrowed down and gathered just above the waist bands.
She remembered what lay just beneath. Egged on by the desire to see it again, her hands felt frenzied as she helped him unzip his pants and drop them to the floor.
“Let’s take it slow,” he muttered, his breath hot on her face. “Not like the first time.”
Carla liked that. The memory of the frenzied coupling of that first time, although hot and steamy, was something she’s rather forget. It wasn’t them, it was just the bottles of wine they consumed.
This? This felt real. This was them.
Their eyes locked in unspoken understanding. She nipped the flesh on his shoulders, aware that his hands went for the back of her bra and with an expert flick, unsnapped them. His mouth followed a path from the side of her neck down to her chest as his hand cupped one breast and kissed the other.
Carla threw back her head and sighed. She felt him go down on his knees, hook both thumbs around the sides of her panties and glided them down her legs.
“You have beautiful legs,” he whispered kissing the front of her thighs before moving his head upwards and planting a kiss on her navel.
Carla felt the spike of desire as he moved down on her breathing deeply against her navel.
“You smell so good,” his muffled voice reached her.
Her back arched as a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. Then she looked down and their eyes met. She ran a hand through his hair and tugged gently telling him to rise. They stared into each other’s eyes, the message in her eyes clear to see.
Falcon’s arms reached out for her back and the back of her knees and carried her to the bed. He positioned her on the soft mattress before leaving the bed and walking to a nearby cabinet. Carla wondered what it was he was searching for till she saw him open a box and pull out a condom.
“A bit too late,” she grinned in her head. But she kept quiet.
He returned and straddled her around the waist. Then he bent and came close and kissed her on the lips, nibbling and sucking, his probing tongue exploring her mouth.
His lips traveled down again to her chest as he kissed her breasts, his tongue flicking and licking against her nipples. Carla felt them go rigid in desire. Falcon followed a path down her waist to her navel, then he pushed her legs apart and prostrated between them.
Carla knew it was only a matter of time before she felt that hot and cold flash of desire. It gathered gently as he reached out and parted the lips of her vagina, his fingers searching for her clitoris. When he finally found his mark, he massaged the area around it, increasing the pressure gently, until he felt her juices flow. He took possession of the sensitized nub, sucking and flicking it.
Carla thrashed wildly feeling the glorious intensity of the growing pools of desire. She felt like dry leaves set on fire. It was consuming her and turning into a wildfire. Her breath tuned from pants to heavy gasps with Falcon’s unceasing attention to her clitoris. She wanted him to stop…not to stop…it was confusing. The cold and hot sensations were shooting off her body like arrows. She knew that if he didn’t stop now, she would come before him.
“Falcon,” she gasped, “Please stop. I think I’m coming.”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do so I can have you longer when I’m ready,” Falcon replied.
He moved upward and hovered above her breast while dexterous fingers were left behind to continue where his tongue left off. Then his tongue did the same torture on her nipples that he inflicted on her clit.
The wildfire in Carla turned into conflagration. The combination of fingers and tongue on the most sensitive parts of her body was more than torture. It begged for release. Her moans turned into groans that became high pitched as her orgasm gathered and pooled. Her body arched off the bed, no longer able to control the pools of desire that had reached its apex and turned itself into a massive orgasm.
“Oh, Falcon.” She lay limp and spent as he moved to his side and cradled his head with his elbows. A knowing smile painted across his face. Carla opened her eyes and saw him watching. She noticed his hard-on too. A strong desire to give back all the pleasure overtook her.
Carla lifted herself up and pushed him flat on his back. She sat with her legs tucked under her as she straddled him. She kissed and nipped his abs, following a path down to his navel, following the happy trail, before placing a firm grip on his cock. His eyes squinted in pleasure as Carla’s fingers caressed the stiff rod.
She continued with her caresses, warming it just enough until the sweet due accumulated at the small opening. She reached out with the tip of her tongue and tasted it while giving the head of his penis a gentle swipe. She kissed the tip of his cock leaving traces of drool as she explored the rest of his shaft. Using her saliva as lubricant, she stroked the whole length of his cock with her fingers as her mouth took possession of his balls.
Falcon’s breath turned ragged. A guttural sound escaped his lips. His head was thrown back in frenzy, the muscles of his neck etched tightly, his lips clamped firmly together.
Carla released his balls and turned her attention to his cock. Her lips slid firmly and gently over the head of his penis, sucking and tasting, before her mouth slid down the entire length. She felt a shiver run through him and felt his cock increased in length inside her mouth. Carla enjoyed the slippery feel of his cock as she stroked repeatedly, wrapping her tongue to increase the pressure.
Carla knew he had reached the end of his control. He grunted and twisted expertly so that he was now on top of her. With deliberate slowness he entered her, relishing the feel of the muscles of her vagina as it contracted around his pulsing shaft, feeling the tightness of her pussy around his cock.
Falcon lowered his head and spoke into her mouth. “You feel so good…so tight.”
Pumping into her gently, he slowly increased the intensity, controlling his hips so that he felt every inch of her with every grind he made.
a moan escape Carla’s lips. “Falcon, don’t stop,” she encouraged him.
The heat of the friction between them travelled all over her body sending waves of the now familiar sensation that had begun to pool between her thighs.
He controlled her with deliberate slowness, assertive with circular motions of his hips, manipulating her to follow his rhythm.
Carla meet his thrust, following his lead even as he lifted her ass off the bed. Her fingers clawed at his back, leaving marks of red across it. His teeth played at her ear, his every thrust accompanied by a grunt the resounded in her ears.
He shifted and suckled her breast, his tongue swirling against her nipple, never losing the rhythm of his thrusts inside her pussy. Her other breast was never bereft for attention as his thumb and middle finger started a separate tortuous assault.
Carla’s body was aflame almost begging for release, torn between letting go or wallowing in the erotic emotions.
Falcon took control, devouring her, staking his claim on her body with every thrust until Carla felt the whole world was spinning out of control. She was standing in an abyss the heat consuming her up from the inside.
“I’m coming,” Falcon announced as his body spasmed in quick successions.
Carla spiraled into her own powerful orgasm as her fingers dug deeply into his back.
She felt the warmth of his cum spread inside her vagina even as he panted heavily in her ear. He gave her one final thrust then slumped limply against her.
Silence fell over the room. Falcon moved a gathered her in his arms. No words were spoken. Nonce was necessary. Everything that needed to be said had been done.