Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, inspired by characters created by Peter Stone (writer) and Stanley Donen (director) for Universal Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is sought. Note: The first ten lines of dialogue are taken directly from the film's script.
My first attempt at fanfic, and the first Cary Grant fic for MATURE audiences (as far as I know) on the net. If you are offended by such, please don't read. Otherwsie, please read and review!
Summary:
Regina Lampert (Audrey Hepburn) is a young Parisian woman whose husband has been murdered over a large sum of stolen money, which a number of people believe is now in her possession. Three shady characters (Tex, Scobie, and Gideon) are after the goods and her only ally (or is he?) is the handsome and mysterious Brian Cruikshank, aka Peter Joshua, aka ? (Cary Grant) who has taken an unexplained but welcome interest in her.
The title refers to a game the pair played at a Paris nightclub earlier in the evening. The game involves holding an orange under your chin and passing it to a partner without the use of hands.
SETTING: Paris. Night. Hotel hallway. Reggie and Brian (known to her as Peter at this point) have returned from their evening at the Black Sheep Club, and have just stepped out of the elevator.
Brian: Here we are!
Reggie: Where?
Brian: On the street, where you live.
Reggie: How about once more around the park?
Brian: Oh no, I could already be arrested for transporting a minor above the second floor.
Reggie: You know what's wrong with you?
Brian: No. What?
Reggie: Nothing… How about a nightcap? I don't bite, you know. Unless it's called for.
Brian: How would you like a spanking?
Reggie: How would you like a punch in the nose? Stop treating me like a child!
Frustrated, she turned from him and started to look for her room key.
The back of her neck burned with the sense that he was right behind her, staring at her.
Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist and with one swift motion, pulled her to him.
"You're no child," he said, his eyes challenging her.
He kissed her- first gently, then deeply.
She melted, loving the taste of him. She devoured his mouth, the soft lips.
His hands tightened around her waist and she wrapped her arms around him, her fingers through his hair.
She nibbled his plump bottom lip ever-so-gently. He pulled back slightly and arched an eyebrow at her.
"I thought you said you didn't bite?"
She gave him a sly smile and started to kiss his thick, muscular neck.
"Oh Reggie", his voice was full of emotion.
His stubble felt like electricity on her lips and skin. She continued to kiss and nuzzle his neck, dipping her tongue into the small hollow at the base of his throat.
No woman had ever done that to him.
His tie was in the way, so she expertly removed it. Still not satisfied, she grabbed the collar of his white shirt and yanked, sending buttons flying.
He looked down in mock concern, "Oh…"
He put his hands on her shoulders and slid her coat to the floor.
He looked at her in her Little Black Dress appraisingly. His long fingers slid under each shoulder strap, coaxing them down to mid-upper arm, sending shivers through every inch of her body.
Their eyes locked, brown on brown.
His eyes- dark and dangerous, yet vulnerable as a boy's- were framed by the longest lashes she had ever seen on a man.
She wondered what secrets they were hiding.
She thought briefly of her dead husband, realizing that she had grown closer to Peter in the last 24 hours than she had ever been to Charles in all their years together. But why? What did she really know about Peter? It didn't matter. She had wanted this. From the first time she'd seen him at the ski resort, she had wanted this mysterious man.
He continued to probe her with his eyes, absently stroking her now-bare shoulders.
She touched his face, once again sliding her index finger down the cleft in his chin. He smiled this time, which half-smoothed the dimple.
"Amazing," she said, startled by the quiver in her voice.
They kissed again, urgently. His breath was becoming ragged. His big hands were growing impatient with her dress, finding their way underneath, making her moan softly.
Incredibly, his jacket was still on, though his shirt was now ripped wide open to the navel. Reggie quickly sent both jacket and shirt to the floor, revealing his magnificent chest.
Overcome, she grabbed at his waistband with one hand to steady herself. Surprised to find her hand there, he looked down and grinned. He half-lifted his arms, palms up, yielding.
She started to kiss his chest, caressing it with one hand, the other still on his belt.
She expertly unbuckled it with one hand and slid her hand down the front of his pants. He groaned with pleasure.
She'd known he'd be large, having felt him pressing against her as they kissed.
But the reality of it, the magnitude of him, took her breath away.
She looked up at his face and saw he was still smiling, eyebrows raised, eyes dancing. He bent down and whispered in her ear: "You do realize we're still standing in the hallway, darling?"
Without a word, she grabbed his waistband and led him into her room.
The room was dark and they stumbled together until Brian found the light.
He wanted to see her, see everything- and she did not protest.
He set about the long overdue task of undressing her completely.
She was so beautiful, so delicate. He studied her face, trying to memorize every detail, kissing her again and again as he removed her clothing.
Kneeling in front of her, he noticed several marks on the front of her dress and stockings; they looked like burns on the fabric. He looked up at her, questioning, afraid of the answer.
"Tex…", she said.
Brian felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. Still kneeling, he tore at the stockings in a blinding rage so he could inspect her legs. Seeing the red marks on her thighs, his heart broke, and he ached with a need to keep her from further harm. How could he have allowed this to happen? He touched her thighs, gently stroking the soft pale skin. He kissed the small wounds, desperately trying to heal them with his lips, to take away her pain.
He looked up at her. "When?" he asked.
"Earlier tonight. He trapped me in a phone booth."
"Oh Reggie, why didn't you tell me?" His pained voice was muffled as he buried his head against her mid-section.
Moved by his compassion, she placed her hands gently under his chin, slowly bringing him back to his feet.
He watched as she removed the last of her clothing and started to take pins out of her long dark brown hair. An angel.
He had been in love with her from the first moment he saw her, had known he would protect her with his life. Not just because it was his job, but because he needed someone to believe in him. She could make him believe in himself again. But would she be able to forgive his lies, his sins? Brian blamed himself for the unnecessary death of Charles Lampert. A crook, yes, but no one deserved to die like that. What if he failed to protect Reggie too? Tex had already gotten to her, that pyromaniac bastard.
She rescued him from his thoughts by grabbing him again by his belt- she kept doing that! He loved her unique blend of boldness and vulnerability. As in a dream, he found himself being pulled toward the small bed.
Once there, she sat down in front of him. She dragged his pants down his hips and they fell to the floor with an unexpected thud. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of a large caliber handgun which had fallen out of his pocket.
"What's that for?", she asked, eyes wide.
"What's what for?", he teased, putting a gentle hand on her cheek and directing her eyes back to his aroused state.
"Oh I think I know what this is for," she purred as she caressed him, finally unable to resist taking him into her mouth.
A shudder moved through his body. He closed his eyes and gently stroked her hair as she gave him the best gift a woman could give a man.
"Reggie…" he said hoarsely, his head tilted back slightly. Her warm, soft mouth was heaven, and a fire was growing quickly inside him. After a while, he knew he was reaching the point of no return.
Not yet, not like this. "Reggie." he said, more firmly now. "Lie down."
She looked at him standing in front of her, the most beautiful man she had ever seen, and did as he said.
"There's a good girl," he murmured, kneeling on the edge of the bed.
She reached for him as she could no longer bear not having his body on top of hers.
He eased onto her and started to kiss her again.
She arched against him, wanting him.
Though he was desperate to be inside her, he wanted to play.
He began to kiss her neck and shoulders, saying, "It's better without the oranges, isn't it?"
She moaned as he made his way down to her breasts, kissing and licking them, alternately sucking and flicking them with his tongue. He began to give them playful bites. Somewhat unsure of this move, he looked up. She was in ecstasy. "Who's biting now?" she managed.
He grinned diabolically and moved down to kiss her stomach and thighs. His mouth and hands on the soft skin of her inner thighs made her head roll from side to side with pleasure. She grabbed the back of his head, trying to direct him to the spot he was purposely, teasingly, cruelly, ignoring. He kissed and nibbled her inner thighs for what seemed like an eternity. She was in the best kind of agony.
He smiled to himself and decided it was time. He tried to push his hair out of his face, annoyed by a single curl cascading down his forehead.
Powerful arms pulled her hips up and draped her thighs over his shoulders.
For one tortuous moment he stopped everything, maintaining eye contact with her as she writhed in anticipation. With a dramatic flourish, almost a bow, he dipped his head and placed his mouth where she had been aching for him, and she shrieked with pleasure. His tongue was velvety-warm, and masterful.
Her arms flailed out and she grabbed the sides of the bed, white knuckles gripping the faded coverlet, sure she would faint with pleasure if she didn't touch something earthly, something outside of their union.
Brian had been with his share of women, but he had never wanted to please a woman as much as he wanted to please Reggie. She was unlike any woman he had ever known. He loved her scent, her taste, the way she surrendered completely to him.
He could sense from the way she was moving that she was close to climax. He raised himself up, eliciting noisy protest from her, until she realized he was about to enter her. "Oh, Peter…," she whimpered.
He winced at the sound of the phony name, clenching his jaw. He silently willed her to forgive him, forgive him for things she did not yet know. How he wished he could tell her everything!
He entered her slowly. His size had always been a blessing and a curse, and he had learned to be exceedingly careful at this moment with a woman. She gasped, her eyes welling up with tears. He searched her face- "Is it alright, darling?"
As in response, she wrapped her legs around him, pushing him deep inside her. He relaxed, and they moved together, and she was lost in the solid, soothing heat of him, the strong, sure way he moved within her.
He possessed her completely. Surrendering to the assured movement of his hips, she climaxed so quickly and effortlessly it took her by surprise. She held onto his strong shoulders for dear life, pressing her face against his thundering chest.
He in turn buried his face in her hair. "Come again for me, Reggie," he whispered, "there's a good girl." And she did, and she was.
As her screams faded to whimpers, Brian began to move faster inside her, his eyes taking on a far-away look. A single drop of sweat (or was it a tear?) rolled down his cheek and dropped onto her face, stinging. The anticipation of his release excited her, and, unbelievably, she could feel her own pressure building up again.
He was moving differently now, his breath shallow. He said her name repeatedly as he erupted, searing hot, inside her. The intensity of his release overwhelmed both of them, sending her body into one final, shattering eruption of its own as he shuddered and collapsed on top of her.
They remained like that for many minutes, perhaps hours, unaware they were two people. Finally, Brian rose up on his elbows to gaze at her tenderly.
"Stay with me," she said.
"Always, " he said huskily, brushing her hair from her forehead. Realizing she was shivering, he positioned himself behind her and held her close, pulling the blanket over them. Still intoxicated by her scent, he kissed her hair, neck and shoulders as he fell asleep. He felt like he hadn't slept in weeks.
Her senses returning to her, Reggie looked around the dingy room as if for the first time. Their clothes were in a pile on the floor. The gun. Why did he have it? For her protection? She briefly considered extracting herself from the impossibly strong thigh he had thrown over her and looking through his things. She turned to look at his face- he was already sleeping. She felt his now-steady breath on her face and looked at his fluttering eyelids. She kissed them and snuggled deeper into his arms. The early morning sounds of Paris drifted up through the window. A flower vendor shouted. A siren wailed. She thought about last night, before all of this, at the nightclub. Scobie, Gideon, Tex.
As she drifted off to sleep in Peter's arms, she felt safe from whatever the day would bring.