A/N: Apologies it took so long to update but I really didn't have much time to write there past few weeks. Thank you for all your support, I hope you guys enjoy the new chapter. :) Stay safe and healthy. xxx
Chapter 6
Ophelia grunted gently as she turned over to the side, her mouth felt horribly dry. She must have overdone it with those pink champagne cocktails. She sighed and turned towards the warm body next to her - only to come in contact with an empty space. She frowned and opened her eyes.
"Gomez?" She whispered but there was no reply.
She rubbed her eyes tiredly, sitting up on the bed and looked around the bedroom, her mind hazy from sleep. God, she needed some water. She silently praised her parent's butler who had the foresight to place the bottle of water and a glass next to her bed. Bless him, if only that retarded zombie of a butler her in-laws employed had at least half of a brain of dear old Mr Evans but alas.
She poured herself a hearty glass of water and titled the glass towards her lips, drinking greedily. Well, that felt much better.
"Gomez?" She said again, louder this time but was still greeted with silence.
Where the hell was he?
She turned to look at the bedside clock. Almost three o'clock in the morning, maybe he went out for a cigar? But at three in the morning? Oh, good Lord, she hoped he didn't start sleepwalking or some other weird thing. She really hoped not, that would be so embarrassing but one never knew with this family.
Then she saw it, a faint, dim light peeking from under the adjacent bathroom door. There was a sound of running water in the shower as well. What the hell was he doing, showering in the middle of the night?
She waited until she heard the water stop and a few minutes later her husband emerged from the bathroom, wearing only his silk boxer shorts, quietly closing the door behind him, obviously mindful of waking her up.
"Are you alright, darling?"
He looked up at her, startled by her voice.
"Of course," he smiled at her, throwing a damp towel on the chair next to the window.
"It's three in the morning," she pointed out."You're having a shower at three in the morning?"
"It's unbearably hot under this duvet," he explained, without missing a beat, and slid to the bed next to her."Sorry if I woke you up."
"Hmmm, it's fine, don't worry," she replied sleepily and snuggled against him before murmuring quietly," it is a bit hot."
He closed his eyes and silently wished she wasn't so close to him because his heart was still racing madly at the mere thought of what he's done - of what they've done. The sheer audacity of their misdeed. And yet, he was painfully aware of the fact that there was no regret in him. He would do it again in a heartbeat if only to be able to hold her in his arms again.
He wouldn't be able to sleep a wink tonight, he was sure of that. He could not go to sleep, he could not close his eyes without being assaulted with the images of her, her glorious legs wrapped around his hips, the velvet of her voice as she urged him in those sultry tones - the mere thought of it was making him yearn for her again.
No, there was no regret in him.
What did it make of him, the fact that he had not a single regret about it? That he was lying in this bed, with his wife next to him, and yet his body still burned with the need for another woman, he could still feel the silk of her skin under his hands. And her lips, God her lips, he was filled with a constant gnawing need for her, enslaved and consumed by her and he wanted nothing else but her.
He has never felt like this with any woman before. He has never desired anyone so desperately, so obsessively and completely.
He turned slightly to look at the women beside him and he knew. The thought descended upon him with irrevocable certainty - that this marriage was over, there will be no going back to whatever he imagined this relationship was or could have been. Regardless of wherever this affair might lead them, he will be forever enslaved to the other woman. Her sister.
The other woman.
She wasn't the other woman at all.
She was the only woman he would ever want.
She briefly toyed with the idea of skipping breakfast altogether. Sleeping with one's brother-in-law probably did not mix well with a family breakfast, after all.
Not that she regretted it, she didn't, but it felt...well, awkward. It was hard to imagine sitting at the breakfast table next to her sister when her own body still felt intoxicated by him.
Morticia reached for her hairbrush and looked into the steamed mirror as she gently ran her fingers through her dark tresses. Her usually milky skin was flushed from her morning bath, she brushed the tips of her fingers over the bruise on her left hip and her lips curled into a small smile. She could still remember his every touch, her body still felt electrified from his kisses, the feeling of him. It felt intoxicating. Insane. She truly did not remember the time when she came this hard, she never desired anyone with such ferocity. It truly felt like plunging into insanity, she could not think of anything else but him.
What kind of woman did it make her? Did she really have so little regard for her sister's feelings? Shouldn't she feel something? Anything? Remorse, guilt, shame?
There was not an ounce of regret in her over what she's done. If anything, she wanted him even more than before, she craved him. She never wanted anyone so violently as she wanted him. It felt like madness. He was madness.
What now, though?
The stupidest thing she could do is to continue this affair. The sensible thing would be to leave things be at this one night together and never even mention it.
The odds of this affair turning into absolute and utter disaster were so overwhelming, only a madman would continue with it. Even though she still desired him more than ever, it would just be asinine to see him again.
It would be best to never even discuss it and act as if it never happened.
Yes. It would be the most sensible thing to do.
Except, she thought as she slowly started brushing her wet hair, she was not going to be sensible.
She was late.
Why wasn't she here yet? Was it because of what happened between them? Did she regret it? God, he hoped not. He could not stand the possibility of never touching her again.
And it was a very real possibility.
"I think it's not a bad idea," his mother-in-law mused in between the bites of her fruit salad."It's good for a young couple to get a place on their own."
"We do have a whole wing to ourselves," Gomez pointed out, pushing the food around his plate.
Why was she not here yet? He wanted to see her, just to feast his eyes with the image of her.
"That's not the same," his wife interjected."We would have the whole place to ourselves."
He could never get over the food they served at his in-law's. It always looked so colourfully unappetizing it made his stomach churn. Who in their right mind ate fruits, let alone for breakfast? None of the food at this table had eyes. He desperately longed for his mother's cooking.
"Very true," Ophelia's mother replied. "There's something to be said about the privacy of one's own place."
She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of banana before her gaze rested on Patricia Frump.
"I sure do miss it," she deadpanned.
The older lady merely chuckled, popping two cubes of sugar to her coffee and gently stirred the black liquid.
"Oh, please," Patricia rolled her eyes and reached for a freshly baked croissant before commenting dispassionately."What kind of privacy do you two old bags need? You're pushing sixty."
"Granny," Ophelia reprimanded half-heartedly and smiled over the rim of her coffee cup.
The older lady lifted her eyebrow in the exact same manner Gomez saw Morticia do it when she found something amusing.
"What?"
"Mommy is not sixty," she pointed out.
"Irrelevant, a plate of dumplings has more sexual energy than your parents, dear."
Gomez could practically feel his mother-in-law groan in exasperation and had to bite his cheeks to prevent his lips from stretching into a wide grin, he decided to dig into the only remotely appetizing thing on his plate - a slimy-looking, neatly sliced avocado. Not bad, he decided. Well, passable.
"Some people like to keep their private life private," his mother-in-law retorted, obviously thoroughly annoyed, as she glared at the older lady in disapproval.
The older lady who, in Gomez's opinion, seemed to think nothing of her disapproval.
"Why, if I didn't break my hip I would still be -"
"Granny, stop giving away our state secrets," the amused, soft voice interjected before the matriarch of the Frump household could voice whatever scandalous thought was on her mind.
His heart started beating madly at the sight of her, even though she barely spared him a single look as she said her good mornings and took a seat beside her grandmother, merely smiling at her mother's comment about finally, kindly deciding to show up.
"Your grandmother was obviously trying to make Gomez feel part of the family," James Frump supplied as he beckoned at the butler to pour him some more coffee.
"Gently scandalizing Mr Addams into the very core of Frumps' domestic bliss?" Morticia supplied affectionately, gracing him with a small smile.
God, he longed to kiss her so badly.
"Scandalizing our dear Gomez is not an easy task, but someone's got to do it," Patricia promptly supplied in a dispassioned manner and winked at Gomez who couldn't help but grin at her.
"Good luck with that," he replied.
"Please, no scandalizing anyone today," James Frump forewarned as he cut the end of a cigar and handed it to Gomez who gratefully accepted the offering.
At least something he could busy himself with, he started to run out of space on his plate where to push his food to.
"My campaign manager is coming over just before lunch - "
"Your what?" Ophelia frowned.
"My campaign manager," her father repeated.
"What for?"
"We're going to go through all the 'dos and don'ts' to abide by as I run for office," he explained.
"Yes," his wife affirmed firmly next to him and her gaze immediately rested on the two women sitting opposite her. "No scandalous behaviour of any sort," she continued, jabbing her fork into the air."Not a toe out of line."
"Why, my dear, I think you're being a bit unfair," Patricia retorted blithely."Morticia's behaviour has been impeccable."
Morticia gave her grandmother an affectionate smile, also trying very hard not to choke on her tea and trying very very hard not to look at Gomez at all.
"I meant you," her mother shot an exasperated look at the older lady.
"Oh," Patricia laughed."Well, you can forget about that, I'm old and I do what I want."
Gomez laughed jovially at her response.
"You'd make a fine Addams, Patricia," he commented, regarding the older lady affectionately.
"Do you think so, dear?" Patricia asked.
"I certainly do," he smiled at her."All Addams women are of independent spirit."
Patricia smiled back and nodded in approval.
"Well, what I a pity you're already married," the older lady mused candidly."I certainly wouldn't mind - "
"What happened to your lips?" Ophelia asked Morticia, interrupting her grandmother so abruptly it took Morticia a few seconds to realize Ophelia was talking to her.
"My lips?" Morticia frowned gently in the midst of spreading a thin layer of butter on a slice of plain rye bread.
"You cut your lips," Ophelia pointed out."Didn't you notice?"
"Oh, that," she replied, almost unwittingly touching the cut on her bottom lip." I didn't cut them, I -" she paused, suddenly unsure how to answer.
I bit them too hard as I was trying very much not to scream in ecstasy when your husband was fucking me last night?
Well, she's definitely not going to say that.
"I didn't cut them," she said crisply with only a ghost of a smile.
"Did you sleep well, dear?" Her grandmother asked, a concern colouring her tone."You look rather tired."
"I couldn't sleep, it was rather… hot at night," she said, without sparing Gomez even a fleeting look.
"Gomez didn't sleep all that well either," Ophelia interjected.
"Oh, really?" Her grandmother frowned and Morticia could practically feel her gaze bore into her skull."How strange, I slept very well, indeed."
There was no way her grandmother was suspecting anything, Morticia assured herself. She was entirely sure nobody saw them last night.
Ophelia nodded in confirmation.
"I think Mama ordered a change for the winter duvets too early this year. The weather has been rather mild recently."
"Oh, the weather is changing so much as of late," her mother replied."One day it feels like we're in the midst of Fall and the next thing you know, it's blistering hot again."
"Indeed, it has been rather mild lately," Patricia agreed brazenly."Yet, something is telling me it's brewing up for quite a storm."
"Do you think so?" Ophelia frowned, looking behind her towards the large window."It's such glorious weather today."
The campaign manager her father mentioned turned out to be an annoyingly enthusiastic young man, in his mid-thirties with a very extensive list of 'dos and don'ts' and an extremely detailed campaign plan for her father.
"Hi everyone," the skinny, bespectacled man in a green corduroy suit greeted them in a high pitch voice, waving his hand at them the moment he entered the parlour with her father next to him and a half a dozen people behind him." I'm Stan, Stan Podolsky, the campaign manager and this," he motioned to the people behind him."Is the team."
"This is already so preposterous," Morticia heard her Grandmother utter not so quietly."Where the hell did they dig him up?"
"I'm so excited to finally meet you all!" He squealed.
Really. There was no other way to describe the sound he produced. Squeal. It was a squeal.
"Your father's told me so much about you I feel like I already know you all. Sweetie," he said, approaching Morticia, pushing his plastic, white-rimmed glasses further down his nose." You look ghostly pale," he decided, putting his finger to his lips in a contemplating manner."Not the best look for campaign photos. How would you feel about wearing something more...pastel?"
"I don't know," Morticia replied calmly, boring her eyes into his without blinking."How would you feel about a dagger in your heart?"
"You must be Morticia," Stan presumed. "We shall return to this topic later, lovely. Great! Wonderful! How about we snap a few trial photos, huh? This is Jen, she'll be taking photos, shall we move to the garden? It's glorious weather and we all know the natural light makes one's skin just glow, am I right Jen?" He chuckled and then his gaze rested on Gomez. "Boy, aren't you gorgeous? I love the look...I get those Victorian vibes," he nodded, placing his hands on his hips. "A mix of traditional and modern, I see what you're doing here, clever, really clever...I like it - okay people, shall we start on those photos? Teamwork makes dream work - let's go!"
"I hate him," Patricia muttered to Morticia as she reluctantly moved towards the terrace doors."I'm going to disregard everything he says."
"That's the spirit, Granny," Morticia grinned at her and her grandmother winked at her conspirationaly.
"You're coming?" The older lady asked when Morticia didn't make a single step to follow.
"In a minute," she said."I want to annoy him."
She watched Patricia's lips stretch into a content smile.
"Good girl," she smiled indulgently before moving towards the terrace where Stan was already shouting his instructions.
Gomez smiled at the exchange and was about to follow the rest of the family when Morticia's soft, amused voice stopped him in his tracks.
"I believe you have something that belongs to me."
He turned towards her and his lips stretched into a wide grin.
"You want them back?"
He watched her cross her arms against her chest.
"It's my underwear," she pointed out, amused.
"I'm keeping them until further notice," he retorted cheekily.
"Gomez -"
"I want to see you again," he said firmly instead before adding in a lighter tone, "you can get them back then."
She looked away towards the terrace and drew her button lip gently in between her teeth in such a beguilingly contemplating manner he almost kissed her there and then.
"That's really thin ice," she whispered under her breath.
"I don't care," he replied, his voice already hoarse with need."I couldn't sleep after - I want you so much it makes my blood boil."
She closed her eyes briefly. God, she loved how his accent got thicker with those delightful Spanish notes when the passion got better of him.
"Gomez, if we're going to do this there have to be some rules," she interjected, finally turning towards him.
He looked at her quizzically.
"If?"
"There have to be some rules," she amended, thoroughly amused before her gaze landed on his lips and she had to almost physically restrain herself not to kiss him.
"Anything you want," he promised.
"I don't want any drama," she forewarned."I don't want to make this complicated or.. make it any more than it is."
He felt a jolt of disappointment but forced himself to disregard the feeling almost as soon as it came. She was right, they were not in for a happily miserable ever after here.
"Fair enough," he agreed and brushed his fingers lightly against hers."I want to kiss you so much, I might go insane just thinking about it."
He watched her lips curl into an amused smile.
"Where is your remarkable self-control, Mr Addams?" She teased.
"Dead on the kitchen floor," he replied without missing a beat but then licked his lips, his tone acquiring a more serious note."Tish, your grandmother - "
She shook her head.
She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to even remotely consider that they were already on a minefield with this affair and the most sensible thing to do would be to retreat - hastily.
"Ignore her," she said."She doesn't know."
He nodded, although he didn't look entirely convinced.
"When can I see you?" He asked eagerly.
"I don't know," she replied quietly."We need to be -"
"Mr Addams," the voice of her parent's butler interjected gently."Miss Morticia, they are waiting for you outside."
Gomez nodded, gently clearing his throat.
"Thank you, my good man," he said and, with all the nonchalance he could muster, left for the terrace.
"Don't give me that look, Evans," Morticia said, barely glancing towards the butler. She could feel his knowing gaze on her. Not that he would say anything to anyone, he knew better than that."I'm not seven anymore."
She looked at him pointedly
"My apologies," the older man replied. There was no judgement there, his gentle, blue eyes professionally expressionless as he added lightly,"changing to my customary 'I've seen nothing' butler look."
She smiled gently as he bowed at her politely and left the room, leaving her on her own.
Morticia closed her eyes and shook her head.
Fifteen seconds into this affair and they are already screwing this thing spectacularly, so to speak. If this is how subtle they're going to be, Morticia thought with a mirthless amusement, then they will really be damned all the way to hell in a record time.
As a general rule, Gomez Addams refrained from spending too much time alone with nothing to do. Idle time inevitably tended to lead to some reminiscence about the past - the choices and actions that he was desperate to avoid thinking about. This is why he usually kept himself as busy as humanly possible. It helped him to think less.
It helped him to feel less.
Except this time, all he needed was fifteen minutes alone. A blasted fifteen minutes to try to arrange his meeting with Morticia - to at least call her, or send her a note - anything. But alas, whenever he even attempted to do that -
"Darling, are you ready?"
Someone or something immediately interrupted him.
He resisted an almost overwhelming urge to felt as if the whole world conspired against him.
"We're supposed to see that state agent in forty minutes," she reminded him.
He leaned against the leather hair behind his desk and tried very hard not to groan in exasperation.
Actually, he felt like howling in frustration.
He longed for nothing else than to see Morticia again, to feel her against him and yet, for nearly a week, he hadn't had a chance to sit down and write her even a blasted note, let alone call her.
First, the business deal his father was so keen on was practically shot to hell, forcing him to sit never-ending hours in the boardroom, revising the contracts. Then, there were legal documents to review so he could be legally responsible for his father-in-law's business while he concentrated on his political campaign. Devil knows why did he agree to this anyway, the last thing he needed was another business to look after. Although, at least in this case and unlike his own father, James Frump knew all the intimate in and outs of his business and was generally in agreement with Gomez as to how to handle this transition so at least that should be smooth sailing.
However, smooth sailing or not, it still took time. Time Gomez Addams was desperate to dedicate to Morticia. He started to admire the time management skills of people who had extramarital affairs for years. How the hell did they manage?
He also tried not to consider how little he thought of the consequences of his actions. Truthfully, he hasn't been thinking about them at all. All he wanted was to be with her, he wanted to get lost again in her and nothing else mattered to him.
He dreaded to think what Morticia thought of his silence. He had to find a way to see her. As soon as possible.
"Gomez, are you even listening to me?" Ophelia asked, her tone acquiring an impatient note.
"I'm coming," he conceded, putting the documents neatly aside and pushed his chair off the mahogany desk.
Ophelia smiled at him enthusiastically.
Ophelia's latest fixation was constantly showing him real estate catalogues of the mansions in the suburbs she was interested in - in the suburbs! He wouldn't be caught dead living in the suburbs but he nevertheless agreed to go with her and see at least one property - a huge mansion with twelve bedrooms. On the other hand, since he was already a despicable, cheating cad of a husband, the least decent thing he could do was to indulge her little property hunt. Although, the devil only knew what they would need a mansion with twelve rooms for.
Ophelia absolutely loved it, though.
"So what do you think?" she asked eagerly, showing him the photos in the catalogue.
At least they were driving the Packard instead of that red monstrosity, Gomez thought as they passed the array of similarly looking, high-gated properties.
"Looks familiar," he replied, barely glancing at the photos."Oh, of course, the gates of hell."
"Oh, come on," she chastised."Don't be like that."
"Like what?"
"You hate it before you've even seen it," she pointed out.
"It's in the suburbs, it's bright and airy - what's there to like?"
Ophelia closed the catalogue with a snap and rested it heavily on her laps, inhaling deeply before she turned towards him.
"Darling," she addressed him morosely."Don't you want me to be happy?"
He tensed momentarily and swallowed heavily.
"Of course I do."
"Well, this," she jabbed her manicured finger at the catalogue."Would make me very happy."
"I still don't understand what's so bad about living in the Manor?"
"My, aren't you argumentative lately," she sighed loudly."It's...a bit crowded, don't you think?"
"Hardly."
"And I think it would be good for us to have a place of our own," she insisted, placing a small kiss on his cheek."You know, more intimate."
"I think the parents are going to be very hurt if we tell them we want to move out," he pointed out.
"Oh, nonsense, darling," she denied in a disregarding tone." I'm sure they will be perfectly supportive. We're here," she announced."Didn't I tell you it's just gorgeous?"
Gomez looked up at the pristinely white facade of the mansion, with a neat row of potted shrubs cut into perfect spheres, separating doric columns. The estate was surrounded by acres of vivid green lawn.
He forced himself to swallow another tired sigh.
It really felt like stepping into the gates of hell.
Morticia Frump sighed tiredly as she surveyed her plants. The blasted petals kept growing back no matter what she's done. As if this week wasn't frustrating enough.
"After my dead body," she announced firmly.
She was met with a loud, exaggerated moan.
"Oh, come on, Tish."
"Never," she shook her head again, spraying another layer of poison on her plants.
"I am in dire need, I need your support!" Debbie insisted, still glaring at her image in the mirror.
Morticia finally put the metal spray container on the small table beside her and turned towards her friend.
"Debbie," she addressed her friend with a firm tone of finality."Even if my dear life depended on it, I still wouldn't go jogging."
Debbie spun towards her with an annoyed glare.
"What kind of friend are you?" She asked in an exasperated tone." Look at me," she insisted pointing to her middle." I need to lose weight, I'm starting to look like a fucking sausage roll."
"You're not fat, you are as slim as you've always been," Morticia denied, picking up her gardening shears and snipping a rosebud off."And, besides, everyone loves sausage rolls, they are a sure way to an early grave... and so are you."
"Awwww, you sweet talker you," Debbie smiled at her, still looking at herself critically in the long hall mirror on the wall. "I wish I could have your tiny waist. Like, I want to keep my tits but have your tiny waist... and your hips. That's all I want. How do you stay so slim?"
"I barely eat," Morticia deadpanned.
Debbie let out a frustrated sigh, placing her hands on her hips.
"There has to be another way, " she decided firmly.
"One meal a day and copious cups of tea in between," Morticia assured.
"I can't do that, Tish, food is everything."
Morticia glanced at her, raising her eyebrow in an amused manner.
"Hardly."
Debbie walked over towards her, picking one of the decapitated rosebuds from the table and slid her manicured finger against the petal.
"I'm telling you - passion goes, sex goes, husbands die but food is always there for you," she explained, making her friend laugh." Speaking of dead husbands, are you still seeing that Addams guy?"
Morticia made a face, snapping at another rosebud.
"Mmmm, sort of," she replied.
She could feel Debbie's curious gaze on her as she played absently with the rose petals.
"Why do you bother, you don't seem very interested in him," she pointed out.
"I'm not not interested," Morticia retorted."He's nice."
Besides, in case her grandmother was already suspicious, she didn't want to add logs to the fire by breaking up with Vlad so soon. It would be best to continue seeing him for a while longer.
"Imagine if you ended up married to him - "
Morticia let out an amused chuckle.
"That's… very unlikely."
So, so, so very unlikely. This situation was already morbidly ridiculous, she could not imagine being married to a man whose cousin was married to her sister and fucked her against the wall in her parents' kitchen mere days ago. And she had no plans to marry Vlad anyway.
"True, why would you want to spend your life being constantly underfucked - "
"Debbie - "
"And your sister being married to his cousin - a bit kinky," Debbie mused out loud, making a clicking sound with her tongue.
"Very funny."
"Who's hotter, the brother-in-law or the cousin, tell me?"
"Does it matter?"
"I suppose not," Debbie agreed."They both have what matters most."
"Money?" Morticia guessed.
"You got it," Debbie grinned. "I taught you so well, you make my heart swell with pride. Do you wanna go out for a drink?"
"Hmmm, not especially."
"Hey, don't turn a hermit on me," her friend chastised."You barely left the apartment this week. I'm beginning to worry about you. First knitting, now this -"
"It's too sunny," she defended.
"Okay, Carmilla," Debbie rolled her eyes."It's past the sundown, you can come out of the coffin."
Morticia smiled at the dig. Debbie was right though, she did barely leave the apartment and she felt absolutely pathetic about it. Truth be told, she didn't know what to do with herself. She had expected to hear from Gomez by now but she didn't, there was absolute silence from him and it didn't make sense. She didn't know what to make of it but she hated this feeling of uncertainty, of being played, as if he was deliberately making her wait. She felt suddenly angry.
Damn him. And damn her for feeling this way. Why was she spending all day at home, waiting to hear from him? It was unbearably pathetic, and so utterly unlike her.
"You know, you're right," she decided."Let's go to that lovely bar in Harlem."
"Ugh, the police closed it down," Debbie replied."There was a gruesome murder there last week."
"Oh, no," Morticia exclaimed."How awful that we've missed it."
"I know," Debbie nodded in disappointment."But there's always our usual place in the Bronx."
"How true," Morticia smiled, picking up her purse."Nothing says fun like a crime rate of 2048 per 100 000."
"Right?" Debbie agreed with a wistful smile."Home sweet home."
"I'm buying it," Vlad decided."It's better and faster than your wife's car."
Gomez tilted his head against the leather seat of the Lamborghini he and Vlad were testing out and groaned out loud.
"Please don't tell her that."
Vlad laughed at him and took another sharp turn, pressing his foot down at the accelerator.
"It glides like a dream," he praised."You should buy one like that, old man."
"Never."
"What's with you and your penchant for ancient vehicles?" He smiled."The upkeep of that old Packard costs more than the car is worth."
"I know," Gomez grinned."But I love it."
"The only good thing about modern times is the cars, Gomez," his cousin pointed out."Did you see the Aston Martin Itt had ordered?"
"No."
"They just released it in England, Itt ordered it immediately," Vlad informed him."I think the shipping cost is more than the car itself."
"Vintage cars have souls that modern monstrosities will never have," Gomez insisted."Just like trains. Trains have souls, planes are purely for commercial purposes."
"You blow up trains," Vlad pointed out, amused.
"And they blow up beautifully," Gomez sighed dreamily."I haven't blown one up in months."
"Really? That's not like you."
Gomez nodded.
"Ophelia said the noise gives her a headache."
"How's that a bad thing?"
"I didn't get it either but it's Ophelia, it's probably one of those things about her I will never get. She wants to move out of the Manor."
His cousin frowned and glanced at him in confusion.
"Move out? Why on earth would she want to move out?" He asked in disbelief."The Manor in the most charming, homey place there is."
"She says we need a place on our own."
"Fuck, one would think she'd wait at least until you have children before starting to nag," he commented blithely.
"She not nagging," Gomez denied immediately."She's just…-"
"What?" Vlad prompted after his cousin stayed silent for few seconds too long.
"She's…," Gomez paused, trying to think of a better description before finally adding, "nagging."
Vlad grinned at him and cleared his throat.
"Need to run something through you, old chap," he announced.
"Fire away."
"What do you think of Morticia?"
"What do you mean?" Gomez retorted, trying to keep the tension from his voice.
God, he was afraid the conversation would steer to that at some point.
He was never particularly good at hiding his feelings. Well, he could go on for some time ignoring the feelings inside him but then they tended to accumulate and, eventually, just boil over, and he was constantly worried that everyone around him saw it- that he wore all his feelings for Morticia on his sleeve. They all saw this and they knew.
"I really like her," Vlad told him as he killed the engine but made no move to exit the car.
Gomez felt his mouth go dry.
Maybe it was a sign - to end it before it turned into a disaster, even worse than the Amore Twins debacle ever could.
"Okay," he said.
"No, I mean, I really like her, Gomez," Vlad clarified."I think she's… the one."
It took all of his willpower not to wince at his cousin's words.
Damn it. Damn him. Damn it all to hell. Why did it have to happen to him again? What was he supposed to say? There is no way he was going to encourage his cousin to marry Morticia, he would rather die.
"You barely know her, old man," Gomez pointed out, resting his hands awkwardly on his knees.
What if she married him? She liked him, he could see that but enough to marry him?
Vlad frowned at him in confusion.
"So?"
He would kill him if he ever found out Gomez slept with Morticia. And rightly so.
"So take it easy."
"I don't want to take it easy," his cousin admitted, curling his fingers around the steering wheel."I want to marry her."
On the other hand, he would prefer to be dead than to watch her marry Vlad.
Gomez let out an abrupt laugh, despite himself.
God, what kind of Shakespearean tragicomedy this whole situation was shaping up to be.
"I'm serious," Vlad insisted.
What a bastard he was, sitting here, next to his cousin, listening to him planning to marry a woman with whom he was having an affair. Worse yet, he realized there was not an ounce of decency in him to be a better man and take a step back. No. He was planning to see her as soon as it could be arranged. He was planning to continue this affair as long as possible and that's all he cared about.
"She doesn't look like she's interested in marrying anyone," he observed.
Was he really such a selfish, despicable bastard?
He didn't care anymore. He wanted her. He wanted her for himself and it absolutely killed him - the mere possibility that Vlad might end up being married to her.
"Oh, please, " Vlad rolled his eyes."All women are interested in marriage. She can pull that hard-to-get act all she wants but the end result is always the same."
"If you say so."
"I say so," his cousin smiled at him." But you didn't answer my question, what do you think of her?"
Gomez swallowed heavily, his mouth felt unbearably dry.
"Nothing," he lied."I don't think about her at all."
"Except that she's hot," Vlad teased.
"I'm a married man - "
"Married, yes, not blind."
"Vlad...shut up," Gomez groaned in exasperation."Let's go have a drink."
Vlad nodded at him and placed his hand on the door handle but before pressing it down, he turned towards Gomez again.
"She is hot," he insisted.
Gomez rolled his eyes at his comment. Gods, like he needed a reminder.
Morticia could not claim she was very familiar with the logistics involving clandestine trysts but this is certainly not what she expected. Not in the slightest.
It annoyed her that she practically spent the last week waiting for Gomez to get in touch with her, a call or a message, waiting as if she was some pathetic budding teenager. She hated the feeling but God, she wanted him so much she couldn't think of anything else. She wanted nothing else but to feel his body against hers again. Preferably in more intimate circumstances than the kitchen in her parent's house.
Why did he not call yet? Well, maybe calling her was out of the question but surely he could have sent her a message, a note of some sort - anything really.
Of course, she thought reluctantly, there was this possibility that he decided not to continue with their affair. Which would be regrettable but understandable. There was a lot at stake for him, she understood that. There was a lot at stake for her as well.
So what now? Were they truly supposed to pretend that nothing happened? Will he continue to play a devoted husband after he all but devoured her that night?
Why was she surprised, though? He was a man and men had affairs all the time and acted as if nothing happened when they went back to their wives. Why would Gomez Addams be any different?
She felt her heart skip a beat at the sound of the telephone ringing. Her body seemed to be moving on its own accord and she had to almost physically restrain herself from picking the receiver too quickly.
She let the phone ring a few more times before slowly picking up the receiver.
"Hello?" she answered smoothly.
"Nice to hear your voice again," the jovial voice greeted her on the other side.
She felt her heart sank as the disappointment washed over her.
"Vlad," she greeted.
"Your very own."
"How are you?" She asked, trying very hard not to slam the phone down.
She hated him. She absolutely hated Gomez Addams for making her feel this way. She felt like murdering him.
"Missing you, of course," he replied without missing a beat."Fancy a night out?"
"I might," she replied."Where?"
"It's Friday night, I was thinking we could join a couple of my friends at the club?"
"Friends?" she asked cautiously.
She wasn't sure she was in a mood for socializing in a large group. On the other hand, she certainly wasn't in the mood for spending another night waiting for Gomez to call.
"The usual bunch," he supplied."Gomez and Ophelia will be there as well, so it won't be all strangers if that's what you're worried about."
Morticia frowned at his words. What on earth was Gomez playing at? Well, she might as well confront him and find out.
"I can pick you up in two hours so I can show off my new car," he supplied cheekily.
"Oh, so you bought it in the end."
"I did indeed, Gomez hated it but I can bet you on my life that it's better and faster than Ophelia's Ferrari."
"She will bite your head off if you say that next to her."
"I'm planning to actually," he retorted."You should be there when it happens."
She couldn't help but smile at his antics.
"Well, I wouldn't want to miss that."
"Fantastic," he replied jovially."Shall I pick you up at eight?"
She looked at the grandfather clock in the hall. Almost six.
"Nine?" She proposed.
"Nine it is, I'll see you then, you can even drive."
"I don't have a driving license."
"Oh well, I shall be your chauffeur for the night, then."
Gomez Addams was dead certain this week could not get any worse. He was sure the whole Olympus was having a laugh at his expense. Over a week since their night together and he still didn't manage to arrange his meeting with Morticia. All because Ophelia suddenly decided they did not spend enough time together. Fair enough, except it never bothered her before, so now it seemed she was making up for the lost time because he could swear they spent every minute of the day together.
She woke up earlier so they could have breakfast together, she stayed at home for lunch and they had dinner together every single day for the past week. She asked about his day and while he worked, she spent the days on the sofa in his study with him, going through real estate catalogues every now and then asking him some inconsequential questions.
What do you think about this one, darling? Should we have a look? Don't you think the Mansion would look much better if we brightened it up a little? Oh, Gerald and Holly's neighbours have put their mansion on sale - we just have to see it! Can you imagine if we were to become neighbours?
He felt so exhausted he was half-tempted to just give her any money she needed so she could buy anything she wanted if it gave him at least ten minutes of peace.
He would love to blow up some trains. Preferably real ones.
"You can't seriously think that this piece of junk is faster than my baby," Ophelia laughed condescendingly.
And here was the pinnacle of the disastrous week, Gomez thought, what initially was supposed to be a night out with friends, turned out to be exactly that but with the addition of his cousin and his date.
His date, of course, turned out to be the woman he hasn't stopped thinking for a second since he first laid eyes on her because Ophelia was of the opinion that it was just "hilarious" that Morticia was dating Vlad and why don't they arrange for all of them to go out together. It would be "hysterical".
So here he was, sitting in close proximity to a woman he spent the most passionate moments in his living memory just days ago and who now was seemingly enjoying herself with another man and barely spared him a single looked and when she did, she looked like she wanted to murder him.
"It's a Lamborghini, darling, of course, it's faster," Vlad retorted meanly.
"My father drove a Lamborghini," Vanessa supplied, drowning another one of her blue cocktails."A fine machine indeed."
"See?" Vlad grinned at Ophelia.
Gomez watched his cousin wrap his arm around Morticia's shoulder and he longed for nothing else but to cut his arms off.
Why was she doing this to him? Did she want to drive him insane?
"Let's have a race then," Ophelia insisted. "Your toy car against my superb vehicle."
"Ophelia, darling, you're so competitive," Holly laughed in a very overdone, loud, drunken laugh."What a splendid idea, though, let's have a race!"
"It seems unfair for me to race against a lady," Vlad smirked.
"Oh, fair enough, Morticia will drive your car," Ophelia decided, turning to her sister."Right, Tish?"
Morticia shrugged.
"Alright," she agreed.
Gomez could swear his cousin went a quite few shades paler.
"Ehmmm, that car is two hundred thousand dollars," Vlad pointed out meekly.
Morticia tilted her head to the side, regarding him intently.
"So?" She asked.
"Well... you said you can't drive."
"No," Morticia replied smoothly."I said I don't have a driving license, not that I can't drive."
"They took away her driver's license for dangerous driving," Ophelia informed him snidely."Tuesday afternoon at the Manor?"
"Uhm…"
"Excellent, it's a date then."
Morticia decided that her life was never closer to some inane, trashy romance novel than it was now. It was ludicrous, sheer absurdity did not even cut it. This entire evening was a culmination of how ridiculous the whole situation was. A night out with her lover slash brother-in-law on her left and her ex-lover with whom she considered to have a very undefined relationship, on her right. Adding her sister and her cardboard friends to the mix.
And she couldn't even say she wasn't having a bad time.
Frustrating as it was watching Gomez play attentive husband. Still, she quite liked spending time with Vlad, he was nice and fun to be with, especially when he was bickering with Ophelia.
It was almost too bad sleeping with him was such a disappointment. And now, after sleeping with Gomez - although one could hardly call that sleeping - fucking was a more appropriate term, crude as it was - she really could not imagine ever sleeping with Vlad again. Not after that absolutely mind-blowing sex she had experienced that she really should stop thinking about. She already had trouble concentrating on anything other than the fact that Gomez looked so devilishly handsome tonight, she absolutely loved the way he dressed, and she could barely think of anything else but tasting him again.
The fact that Gomez was clearly jealous of Vlad certainly improved her mood considerably. Although, she had no idea what in the devil did he expect. Did he really even remotely expect her to pine after him like some enamoured filly? Well, she was going to make it explicitly clear how erroneous his expectations were.
She smiled at the bartender as he handed her the wine glass she'd just ordered but tried not to sigh with exasperation. Jealous or not, she still didn't know where they stood with this affair and she really was not looking forward to spending the rest of the eternity in the state of sexual frustration over Gomez bloody Addams.
Oh, God, why was she still in this blasted country? If she had any common sense at all, she'd leave this affair at that one night and move on with her life in some foreign country as she has been planning for weeks now.
Yet, apparently, her common sense deserted her entirely the moment she'd laid her eyes on Gomez Addams.
She almost cursed out loud as she felt someone grab her hand, making her spill some of her wine on her dress.
"What on earth are you doing?" She asked, annoyed, glaring at the man before her.
Gomez looked around quickly and then, quite unceremoniously, pulled her into a secluded corner, placing a hand on the wall behind her, almost in line with her shoulder, essentially trapping her in the corner, as if he expected her to run away.
"You're still seeing Vlad?" He asked, his voice accusatory, laced with anger.
She barely spared him a look, lifting her wine glass to her lips and took a dainty sip.
"Are you still married, Gomez?" She retorted tartly, directing her glare at him.
She heard him exhale loudly.
"I thought - "
"You thought what?" She interrupted him, tilting her head slightly, regarding him mockingly."That I will spend my days waiting for you to call me and I will come running?"
She was certainly not going to mention that that's how she essentially spent the last couple of days. The thought itself made her angry.
He frowned, taken aback by the frost in her voice.
"I wasn't ignoring you, I just couldn't - "
"Oh, don't start with that again," she interjected with annoyance and pushed at his arm to get away from him but he barely budged.
"There wasn't an opportunity, that's what I mean," he explained but was still regarded with an icy stare.
"Well, what a pity," she retorted sarcastically, placing her left hand on his arm and pushed firmly but he remained stubbornly in place.
"Tish - "
"Excuse me but I really mustn't keep your dear cousin waiting - "
"I wanted to call you," he assured, wrapping his fingers around her palm.
He pressed a firm kiss to the soft skin of her wrist, making her swallow heavily. He was dangerously close.
"I barely had a moment alone this week," he said, letting out a frustrated breath."I'm sorry, I wasn't ignoring you, I wasn't trying to make you..wait - I want you, I want this, you're all I think about. Gods, Tish - "
He was so close, his lips hovered mere millimetres from hers, and for a moment she couldn't focus on anything else but those full, inviting lips. He seemed simultaneously too close and frustratingly too far away. The spicy scent of his cigars and his cologne, earthy and masculine assaulted her senses so thoroughly she could barely remember what they were even talking about, or that she was supposed to be upset with him.
"Gomez - " she breathed out and just couldn't resist brushing her lips against his, eliciting a soft moan out of him.
He took the wine glass from her and chucked it carelessly behind him, wrapping his arms around her and she instinctively placed her hands on his broad chest.
"Nobody will see us," he told her when he noticed her cast a cautious look around them and promptly claimed her lips in a firm kiss.
She couldn't help but moan at the sensation, almost melting into his arms. God, he tasted so wonderful, absolutely delicious. She felt him press her against the wall as he slipped his tongue into her mouth and another moan escaped her, the warm tingling sensation went straight to her groin. She moved her hands to his hips and pressed him against her, eliciting a strangled, low groan out of him.
She inhaled softly and tilted her head back, moaning in pleasure when he attacked her neck with a myriad of delightful kisses. She felt suddenly dizzy, intoxicated with the need for him and she nearly forgot where they were.
"Gomez, not here" she managed to breathe out and instantly regretted the loss of his warmth as he groaned in frustration but lifted his head off where it was nestled at the crook of her neck, to look at her.
His gaze was glistening almost feverishly.
"I want you so much," he rasped hoarsely, resting his forehead against hers.
"Not here," she repeated but couldn't resist capturing his lips into a brief kiss."We should go back, we've been away for too long already."
He nodded.
"I know," he said regrettably, running his fingers gently against the column of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken as she swallowed heavily. He just couldn't stop touching her.
He brushed his fingertips along her exposed collarbone and then down her lace-clad arm, finally lacing his fingers with hers.
He wanted to feast his eyes with her, to engrave the feel of her onto his hands to last him until he would be able to see her again.
He closed his eyes briefly and forced his fingers to untangle from hers and she missed his touch the moment he pulled himself off her and looked around, making sure there was nobody around to see them.
"Gomez, wait," she called after him when he turned to go back to their table.
He looked at her quizzically as he watched her raise her palm towards his face and rub her thumb against his lips.
"You have my lipstick all over you," she explained, her tone more than mildly amused.
He chuckled gently.
"That damn lipstick," he murmured affectionately. "Will be my undoing."
She let out a small laugh, and couldn't resist running her nails gently against his cheek, eliciting a low groan out of him.
"Gods, I want you so much," he whispered, kissing her fingers.
"When can we see each other?" She asked, trying to keep the eagerness from her voice.
"Soon," he promised, locking his gaze with hers."Even if I have to sell my soul to the devil."
She smiled at him promisingly, arching her eyebrow in that beguiling manner of hers he decided he absolutely adored as she leaned forward, placing a small, enticing kiss on the corner of his mouth before whispering softly next to his ear.
"Seems like we've already done that."
A/N: Thank you for reading!