Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins (13 page)

Breaking the
kiss, he reached down, one hand sliding under her knees, the other moving
around her shoulders.  He pulled her into his arms.  Ava watched him
all the while, her eyes deep pools of dark blue as he carried her out of the
bathroom.

“Where,” Cole
muttered, glancing at the two closed doors.

“Mine’s the
first,” she answered softly, laying her forehead against his neck. 

Cole opened the
door, then set down next to her bed.  He noticed things as he impatiently
pulled his clothes off, dropping them on the floor: the pile of dog-eared
paperback books on the side-table; an analog alarm clock; brightly coloured
prints and paintings on the wall; an unframed photograph of Ava and Chim
wearing formal clothing.  (The one in which she had a shaved head.) 
With his clothes off, his attention went back to Ava and nothing else.

Reaching out,
Cole put a hand to her cheek and leaned in to kiss her again.  He could
feel her shaking as his arms wrapped around her, his bandaged fingers finding
the zipper on the back of her dress, undoing it while his mouth moved against
hers.  She tasted of warmth and sweetness, lighting his senses on
fire.  In a quick motion, he pulled the dress off her shoulders, letting
it pool in a whisper of silk at her feet.  He sent her panties down a
second afterwards; his body hot and hard where he pressed himself against her
thigh as they stood kissing. Cole’s mouth moved down her throat as he fought
with the clasp on her bra, sucking hard against the skin of her neck while he
fumbled with it.

“Here,” she
whispered, reaching behind and contorting her shoulder as she undid it. 
Then it too was on the floor and he was pushing her down onto the bed, leaning
over her, his body starting to throb with the need to be inside her.

Ava twisted
sideways to the table, picking up something and pushing it into his hands, her
cheeks staining crimson.  He glanced down at the condom, realizing that
unlike
him
, she was actually prepared for this.  That this was a
decision
for her, not just something randomly happening.  There was half a minute
of fumbling – Cole silently cursing the clumsiness of his damaged knuckles –
and then he was back atop her, kissing her hard, revelling in the growing heat
between them and the unbelievable feel of her fingers moving against his back
and chest and face.  He was desperate to touch her everywhere.  The
anger from earlier was gone, replaced by driving need and long-banked desires.

Pulling back,
Cole moved down her body, trailing kisses as he went.  For a moment he
stopped at her breasts, pulling one rose-coloured peak into his mouth while his
fingers rolled the other hard.  It struck him in a completely abstract way
that the breasts on the statue were slightly too large as he’d carved
them.  Ava moaned, low in her throat, dragging the thought away.  He
moved his lips to the other side, his fingers kneading her soft curves,
worshipping her flesh.  Cole’s hand dropped down, running along her ribs
to the curve of her waist and from there to the short crop of dark blonde
curls.  Under his hands and mouth, Ava’s writhing increased, her movements
growing more frenzied with each brush of his fingers and tongue.  With the
moment drawing nearer, Cole felt himself honing in on her pleasure, the small
pants telling him where to caress again, tease more, suck harder.  He
could feel himself nearing the edge.

Cole tried to slow
down, but his body was on fire, and all the urges he’d been hiding under a thin
veneer of control for the last two months were demanding to be met.  For a
moment he considered taking her fast and hard, but he was determined that she
enjoy this too.  He suckled her nipple, then laid a path of kisses across
the flat plane of her stomach, heading lower.  His teeth grazed the raised
ridge of her hipbone before he moved inward, dropping his mouth down to her wet
heat, tasting her.

She gasped, her
fingers tightening painfully in his hair as his tongue darted out, slowly at
first, then moving faster until he reached a steady pattern in time to her
gasps.  Her moans were growing desperate, hips jerking in convulsive
spasms as he worked her body, his own driving need leaving him painfully
hard.  Frustrated, he pushed her thighs wider, giving himself room, his
fingers joining his tongue in pushing into her warm folds, adding to the
growing pressure.  He wanted to hear her scream his name, his entire focus
on her release.

He felt the
slight internal shudder even before Ava cried out, her voice breathless and
raw.  Her body tightened down like a fist around his fingers and Cole
lifted his mouth, moving over her and sliding inside before her climax even
ended.  The tight, perfect fit almost undid him right then.  He
couldn’t think anymore, just moved in time to her moans, his body – primal and
desperate – pumping hard, trapped in a storm that threatened to drown them
both.  Ava wrapped her legs tight around his hips, forcing him deeper and
Cole felt himself pulled under a tidal wave of sensations, pounding brutally
into her, forcing his dark emotions into actions. 

For a moment, it
was like being on the stormy sea – as he’d been a few times in his life –
holding onto the rudder in a desperate hope of not capsizing.  Behind
closed lids, a swirl of dark colours – like storm clouds roiling on the horizon
– appeared in flashes of lightning.  There was the euphoria of imminent
release, and in that moment, Ava’s face flared to mind.  With a rush of
ecstasy, he tipped over the edge, his body shuddering in climax before
collapsing against her.

Coming down from
the post-coital high, his breathing harsh and ragged in his chest, Cole
realized that he could hear something at a distance… ‘
It’s
someone
sobbing,’
 his mind announced numbly
.
  The sound grew
louder, and then, after a moment longer, he realized it was
himself
he
could hear.  His face was tucked against Ava’s shoulder, their two bodies
still tangled together, his body wracked with sobs.  She had her arms
around him, and she ran her fingers through his hair, petting his head like a
child and whispering as he cried.  Comforting him.

“Shh...it’s
okay, Cole,” she said gently, lips against his ear.  “I’m here now.… it’s
okay.”

And for some
inexplicable reason, those words were the ones he needed to hear.

Ava lay with
Cole half atop her, her hands running slowly over his cap of black hair, her calm
exterior in direct contrast to her internal chaos.  The last few hours
left her shaken to the core.

She had
discovered a disturbing truth about Cole Thomas.  He’d been controlling
himself around her for a long, long time, but she knew now that his restraint
could be broken.  There was something dark just under his surface, like
rocks under still water, ready and able to tear out the bottom of passing
boats.  Somewhere – under the careful exterior – there rested something
dangerous
. 
It terrified Ava that she
recognized
that aspect of who he was. 
Knew
the face of that anger like she knew herself...

When his crying
stopped and his breathing finally returned to normal, Cole got up from the bed,
avoiding her eyes.  She watched his movements: the weariness in his
gestures, the slump of his shoulders, the anguish in his face.  Her chest
ached, and that word rose in her mind again.

‘Broken...’

More than ever,
Ava wanted to run, just grab her coat and keys and get the hell out of
here. 
Just go!  She listened to water running in the bathroom,
considering whether she could get out of the apartment before he came
back. 
Before her mind was made up, the door opened, and Cole returned
to her bed.  Ava closed her eyes, feigning sleep. 

She was trapped.

Sighing heavily,
Cole climbed under the blankets.  He turned his face into Ava’s shoulder,
tightening his arms around her, moving as close as he possibly could, one of
his legs tossed over her own, breath warm against skin.  He hadn’t spoken
yet, and Ava wasn’t sure she was ready to hear whatever he’d have to say. 
Instead, she lay motionless, letting him burrow his face against her
neck.  His arms were painfully tight around her back, his breathing
harsh. 

For a long time,
she waited.

The faint
ticking of the clock beside the bed measured passing minutes, but Ava was far
too panicked to relax.  This
intensity
– the part of Cole that had
scared her from the very beginning – had a horrible face that she now
recognized.  Blinking back tears, she waited for the volatile man in her
arms to fall asleep, her mind surging.  She’d seen this before.

That dark side
of him reminded her of
her mother
.

Ava winced as
the image of Cole merged with her mother, her heart lurching painfully. 

‘What if Cole’s
like that too...?’

She squeezed her
eyes shut, trying to force the silent tears away.  All of those growing
emotions she’d had for Cole were now imbued with a dark-hued patina of
pain. 
‘I don’t know if I can do this...
’ Ava thought in
panic.  She knew she was already half in love with him, but she knew that
love was
far
from enough to make things work.  (Her parents’
destructive relationship had taught her that.)

Outside, a car
passed in the street, the heavy bass of rock music thudding like a beating
heart.  Cole let out a long sigh, his arms loosening, and a single tear
ran down Ava’s cheek.  She listened to his breathing.  Minutes
passed… and then more… and still she waited.  Eventually his breathing
slowed, and his limbs grew heavy and limp.  Finally Cole slept.

Carefully easing
out of bed, she went to the bathroom and cleaned up, washing her tear-stained
face before pulling on a t-shirt and yoga pants and walking back to the living
room.  She stared at the phone for a long time before picking it up,
dialling the series of numbers for the overseas relay, then waiting through the
odd mechanical-sounding dial tone.  There was a click of connection and
the hollow sound of static from a phone on the other side of the globe.

“H’lo?”

She smiled,
hearing her father’s muttered response.

“Hi, Dad,” Ava
said, forcing her voice to stay light.  “It’s me.”

“Hey Kiddo,” he
answered with a laugh.  “What’s happening?  Thought I was calling you
tomorrow.”

Ava sighed,
kicking her feet up and laying back.  She closed her eyes, imagining him
on the other end of the couch smoking – even though he never actually smoked in
the apartment – but that was always how she remembered him.  The image
left her throat aching once more.

“Just wanted to
hear your voice,” she said quietly.

There was a
pause.

“You okay,
Ava?  Everything all right?”

She sighed
again, her eyes flickering over to the bedroom door. 

It was
closed.  Cole safe inside, her safer out here.

“Yeah....” she
answered, then frowned.  “
No
… I mean… I just miss you, Dad.”

He laughed.

“Me too. 
Me too...”

“So what’re you
up to tonight?” she asked.

“Not much, the
sound guys are just tweaking the sound system in the Sydney opera house… leaves
a lot of time waiting around before rehearsals.”  He laughed, the growling
sound leaving Ava smiling.  “You know, you’d think they’d design it to
manage the reverb from the ribs, but there’re always issues.”

While she
listened, he launched into a play-by-play of the day’s sound engineering
fiasco.  At this, Ava chortled.

“And this
surprises you because...?”

Her father
laughed and she grinned.  They’d had this conversation more than
once. 

“Doesn’t
surprise me,” he admitted.  “But I can only bitch about it to you.”

 “Bitch
away then, Ollie.”

He chuckled at
the endearment.

“Only another
couple weeks,” he said with a sigh.  “Then I’ll be back home again.”

“God, I can’t
wait,” Ava answered, and this time she couldn’t keep the longing out of her
voice. 

“Alright,” her
father growled, his voice growing serious and parental.  “Spit it out, Ava
Jane Brooks.  There’s something going on with you.  Now what is it?”

She grinned,
turning into the back of the couch, laying her forehead against the worn
leather.  They'd had the sofa since she was a kid and she’d lain like this
a hundred times before.

“It’s nothing,
Dad, really.  I just had a bad night.”

She could almost
hear her father smiling.

“And...?”

She sighed,
closing her eyes.

“And I’m just
feeling.… weird,” she muttered.  He didn’t say anything in response, so
she added another thought. “And I miss you.”

“I miss you
too,” Oliver said quietly.  “So what is it?  School stuff?  Art
stuff?”  He paused.  “Boy stuff....?”

He let the last
question hang there in the space between his voice and her ear.  Ava knew
he’d been reading her – it’s what her father always did with people – but she
didn’t mind.  She felt better just talking to him.