by Anna Bloom
Chapter Twenty-Six
It’s mid-morning when my phone rings. Except, I don’t know it’s my phone, because the ring tone is All Saints Bootie Call. I look expectantly at the room, waiting for someone to admit they’ve got the cheesiest ringtone in the entire universe.
I’m in a good mood and doesn’t everyone know it. The studio is a mess of epic proportions. We’ve broken more glass than we’ve successfully managed to balloon with hot air, but who the hell cares. The sun’s shining, the birds are tweeting; I haven’t seen Jennifer or the wicked witch today, and last night I got shagged to oblivion by Eli Fairclough. There is no better day to be had.
“Anyone want to get that?” I snigger and wait for someone to acknowledge the call shame-faced. No one does and the call drops. I lean back over, humming the tune as I pull another strand of molten liquid glass and suspend it in the air. We are trying to make spun glass filaments for our flowers. Not as easy as it sounds.
The phone starts up again and the glass shatters as I jump. “Fuck it,” I growl under my breath and scowl at everyone. They all take one step back. Everyone apart from Lewis who’s watching the shattered glass mesmerised, lost in thought.
“Uh, Faith.” Tabitha calls my attention and I turn my focus to her. Her hair is pulled up on her head, her cheeks flushed, but then I guess it is quite warm in here. “It’s your phone, over there.” She nods to where my phone is sitting nearby on the side bench of the studio next to the sink. Eli’s name is flashing across the screen along with that god-awful song filling the air. I pounce on it because she can see who’s calling. Not that it matters, he is effectively my boss for the summer. But tell that to my cheeks now scorching a vibrant red.
“What did you do to my phone?” I hiss, holding it tight to my ear.
He roars with laughter. “How red are you right now?”
“I’m not,” I state and brush my hair out of my face. “What do you want? I am incredibly busy.”
He chuckles, and it sends warm licks of anticipation along my insides. “Hold on please, caller.”
There’s a moment and I can hear the tap of him typing in the background.
There’s a beep across the room and Tabitha pulls her phone out of her back pocket. She quickly reads the screen with a furrowed brow and then casts an enquiring glance in my direction before typing on her phone.
“You are red. I have a witness.”
“How old are you?” I grumble.
“You weren’t complaining about my youthful vitality for life last night.” The smirk in his voice is all too evident. I flush even hotter when I think of all the many things I didn’t complain about last night.
Tabitha’s phone beeps again and she giggles as she types another response.
“Just as I thought,” he says. “You’ve been thinking about rule breaking as much as I have.”
I turn my back, so I’m facing the wall. “My rules are very subjective and can be reinstated at any point.” He chuckles, and types some more. “Don’t you dare message Tabitha again.”
“I’m actually working right now.”
“Then why are you calling?”
“I wanted to see how Lewis is.” My stomach sinks. “And I wanted to hear your voice.” God, I’m such a teenager. I grin like a buffoon.
“He’s fine, very good at crushing glass into minuscule pieces.”
“If he’s getting in the way, send him to Jennings to do something useful.”
“He’s not.” I turn around and catch Tabitha showing him how to pull a strand of glass from the kiln. He’s watching her intently. “I think he’s forgetting why he’s here. How did you get on with the lawyers?”
Eli had told me last night between kisses he was attempting to have the charges dropped against Lewis. I don’t know how he was managing two cases and driving back and forth to Hampshire. And here I was, smashing glass… the two things didn’t compare, not really.
“I think they will drop the charges, they are just making it more complicated to distract me from other things.”
“What other things?”
I should be getting back to the glassmaking, but I could also stand here and talk to him all day. I’ve never known anything like it. I’ve never wanted to talk to anyone the way I do him. Never wanted to know anyone the way I want to know him.
“Collecting evidence. The team are working on it. Talking to ex-employees, that kind of thing.”
“The team?” This is the first I’ve heard of a team.
“Yeah, just Jess and Roger.”
I bite on my bottom lip to stop me from saying anything. It’s none of my business anyway.
“Listen, Eli,” I keep my voice soft, so he doesn’t think I’m having one of the strops it seems he expects from me. “Don’t drive back tonight. I don’t know if you were planning on it, but I’m worried about you being tired.”
“I’m hurt,” he mocks. “You don’t want my spooning tonight?”
“Hm, well you did only say every other night, so technically you’re keeping your promises.” An unexpected giggle escapes my lips and I bite it back.
His fingers are hammering keyboard keys in the background and I know he’s busy, let alone the fact I’ve got a roomful of expectant teenagers waiting for some direction.
“I’ll see you when you get here. It’s all cool. I’ve got to go, Eli.” His name sounds delicious on my tongue.
“Don’t break too much glass.”
I glare at Tabitha as I hang up and she turns to me and smirks, her eyes dancing. “Cheeky, remember who gives you your workload every day.”
She giggles and Lewis looks at her with interest. “What’s going on?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I sigh, but Tabitha raises her eyebrow and elbows him in the ribs.
“Elijah and Faith are having a thing.”
I stare at her horrified. “We are not.” My face scorches again. I am so very un-badass.
“Sure.” She gives me that look that only an eighteen-year-old can pull off. Part sheer contempt, part uncertainty. “Hey, I like it. It means I see him more, and that’s always a good thing.”
I turn and pretend to be uninterested in her assumptions, but inside my heart is beating wildly. The last thing Elijah needs is his awful mother and grandmother finding out about us. He’s in their bad books enough as it is.
“Right, let’s move this to the hallway. It’s time to build this exhibition.” I turn to our wonderful creations and split the group up into teams to help move it all. I’m going to make it look so damn good, it will be one less thing for Jennifer Fairclough and her mother to moan about.
I startle when the gentle rap on the bedroom door disturbs my text conversation with Abi. She now knows everything, and honestly, if anyone can squeal while only writing in messages, Abi can.
I told her it’s nothing. Nothing for her to get excited about. That she probably won’t even meet him, this will all be over soon and then I’ll be working out my next plan. Which reminds me, I need to ring the gallery in Whitechapel and see if they’ve shifted any of my stock. I won’t hold my breath.
It’s probably Jennings asking if I need anything before he turns in for the night. As far as I can tell, he never has a day off, but I know he and Elaine are liking the fact Lewis and I have taken up residence in the kitchen at meal times. Jennifer didn’t bother to come and ask why I was no longer coming to the dining room. I’m guessing she worked it out.
I swing the door open and my stomach tightens and then plummets.
“Turns out I can’t stay away.”
Eli’s blue eyes meet mine and then I’m kissing him, tugging him into the room and slamming the door shut with my foot. “You can’t keep driving every day like this,” I mumble against his mouth, my tongue alternating between kissing and talking.
Then talking is over, it’s just us. I’m tearing the suit and shirt from him, battling cufflinks that seem entirely unnecessary, and waiting for his hands to find my skin.
“Shit, you feel good,” he groans as he drops his head, his lips grazing my shoulder, then up and along my neck. We are skin on skin, and I’m on fire.
“It’s a long way to come to get naked with someone.” I grin at him and it’s like I’m slowly morphing into a different person, a person brought about by Eli Fairclough.
“It’s two hours.” He grabs me up, sliding my legs around his waist. “Believe me, it’s worth every damn second.” I cling onto him as he walks us to the en-suite. My breasts are pressed tight against his chest, my nipples hardening as they brush his warm skin. He flicks the shower, the jets booming down onto where we stand. “I need to get rid of the city.” He kisses my mouth, our lips sliding as the water rushes over our faces. “And then I need you.”
He drops me to the floor. My legs are wobbling, but thankfully, he still holds me tight as he rains kisses down on my face. Breaking free, I reach for my lemon soap and lather it in my hand before dropping it back onto the chrome shelf and running my bubble-filled hands along his chest. He shuts his eyes and rolls his neck as the steam rises. His erection grows as my hands drop further down his chest, across his taut abdomen and to the V of his muscles. He’s just too much of everything to look at—I’ve never seen anything like him, never been inspired to stop and look before. But now I’m looking and everything I see is pure perfection. My hand grips his hard on, the remaining soap giving me a silky lubricant. I rub my hand up and down, keeping my grip firm until he groans and one of his hands snakes forward to my hip, tugging me closer. “Every day should end like this.”
“Or begin?” I meet his gaze and wink, mesmerised as he grabs the soap and begins to lather it over my skin. God, it’s heavenly. He pays extra attention to my breasts until my nipples are standing proud, the darting water from the shower beating down on them. When his hand slips between my legs, delving into soapy wet moistness, I whimper a little. He massages and circles until I’m quivering, my knees opening. He spins me until I’m leant against the tiles of the wet room, his fingers skimming along my buttocks, delving deep. When he positions himself at my entrance, pulling my hips back a little, I’m ready. There’s an intense burning tingle right down deep, waiting for him to ease inside. He eases in, slowly and fully, just like last night. Shit, that’s good. I cry a little, trying hard to contain myself as he fills me up.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his fingers sliding along my back, tracing the patterns of my ink. I push back, grinding my hips in a circle, desperate for more.
He has at it, building it slow and steady until he’s pounding deep within me and I’m screaming with every thrust he makes.
“Faith,” he groans my name, “please tell me you’re close.”
Am I?! My legs are trembling, I’m full of a burning need, making me want to push against him until he’s torn me open and let the river of need flow free.
I crest the wave, knowing this is normally where it washes flat, leaving me unsatisfied, but not now. Now I’m climbing higher and higher. My hands splay against the tiles, my head resting on the wet surface as I cry a thunderous orgasm.
He follows me, crying out a deep groan into my ear. As soon as he’s finished, he pulls away, twisting me in his arms. His mouth lands on mine: hungry, hard, and determined. “I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you right now.”
My heart crashes in my chest; my pulse thudding in my ears. “Take me to bed,” I whisper, and he does, picking me up and stalking with me, water dripping everywhere until we land on the covers and find one another all over again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What are you still doing here?” I’m not complaining. His arms are tight and warm, his breath fanning along my skin and I’ve slept deep and sound.
“I don’t have any meetings until lunch.”
My toes wiggle as I stretch, and I slide them up his legs. There’s a strong chance I never want to move.
He rolls me over though, and I groan in dispute until he slides his hot and firm body over mine. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how amazing the hallway looks.”
I grin stupidly. “You like?”
“It’s breathtaking.” He slides his nose along mine, his mouth fitting my lips perfectly. My body sings with delight, warming and tingling up and down. When he breaks the kiss, I try to pull him back, my hands grasping the back of his neck. “What’s the next project?” he asks, ignoring my pleas for more kisses.
“I had an idea for the ballroom.”
He lifts an eyebrow; his startling blues focus on my face. “Are you going to share?”
“It’s about wild dreams.” My heart hammers in my chest, and I nibble my lower lip. “The things we want but can’t have.”
I want to crumple under the intensity of the blues. There’s a lengthy pause. “Sounds dramatic.” My stomach twists at his low tone.
A startling rap at the door makes us both jump from the bed. His eyes are wide. “Faith, do you have a minute?” Jennifer’s clear-cut call slices through the door.
I motion to the en-suite and point, and Eli pulls the funniest expression as his face scrunches in distaste. I wave my hand at him, shooing him away, and grab my dressing gown, quickly slipping it on.
“Yes?” I open the door, no warmth in my greeting.
“Do you have a moment?” Jennifer asks, not giving me any chance to say no as she steps over the boundary into the room. She frowns at the pink walls and shakes her head. “I can’t believe he spent a day painting this pink for you.”
“Why? It was a kind gesture to try to make this place feel like home for a while.” There is no mistaking my inflection on this place.
“Elijah has far more important things to do with his time.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “True, he does; such as help people like Lewis.”
Her face is carefully neutral as she stares back at me. “Indeed.”
“Anyway.” I turn and make it look like I’m busy, not lying in bed with her son. “How can I help? I’m about to get dressed for the day.”
“I was wondering if you’d thought of any plans for the ball? As I need to get my invites to the printers tomorrow?”
To the printers? Clearly Jennifer Fairclough doesn’t nip down to the local stationers for her party invites.
“Yes, I have.” I straighten myself up a little. “It’s going to be a dream anything theme. People can come as anything they’ve ever wanted to be.”
The glance of derision she casts in my direction makes me want to punch her damn hard. “Really?”
Ignoring her tone, I carry on. “The dress code is optional of course.” There’s no way Jennifer will do anything other than dress to impress. “The room will be decorated in art that represents the dreams of the people here.” I choose my words carefully.
Her face is folded. “Excellent. I shall get on that.”
I offer her a tight smile. “Is that all?”
There’s a moment of hesitation. “Well,” she clears her throat. “It would be nice if you could come back to the dining room for your meals. It doesn’t look good for the house to be so fractured.”
“And Lewis?”
“Lewis too. I understand he will be with us for the next couple of weeks.”
I nod. The last place I want to go back to is that stiff and stuffy dining room with the wicked witch. “Does it really matter how this house appears to be?”
When she turns, her eyes are deep with an inexplicable emotion. “Appearances are everything.” She swallows hard. “Which brings me to my next thing. It’s been noted that Elijah has been here with you.”
A blush creeps from under the neckline of my dressing gown, but I brazen it out and watch her in silence.
“It can’t be anything. If he chooses to release his urges with you, then so be it, but it will be nothing more. At the end of the summer, you will be leaving this house and no longer seeing my son.”
I pull on the door and hold it open for her. “Don’t ever talk to me about my own bus
iness again. The rules and games of this family mean nothing to me and I can’t wait to leave.”
I slam the door and lean against it, hearing Eli pad out of the bathroom. He winds me into his arms. “I’m sorry she’s such a bitch. She shouldn’t speak to you like that.”
For the briefest moment I’m going to ask if he’s going to stand up for me, if he’s going to tell her she’s wrong. But then I remember what we said, the agreement we made, and start to laugh.
“Would you care to release your urges with me?” I wiggle my hips suggestively and he grabs them firmly, anchoring me to him.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Then his mouth is on mine demanding everything and I forget about reality and the sting of words that never truly go away.
We are in the kitchen and I’ve pushed Elaine out of the way to cook some bacon when my phone rings. When I pull it from my pocket, I wish I’d never heard it, wish I’d never seen it. My heart crashes, my stomach drops, and my hands don’t want to work.
Dan.
“Hi.” I can sense Eli’s curious gaze burn into my back as I push the bacon around the pan.
“You okay, Faithy?” Dan’s words slur and run into one another.
“Shit, are you drunk?” I glance at the kitchen clock. It’s only quarter to nine. I’ve got forty-five minutes to eat and say goodbye to Eli before the kids arrive. I turn and slide a hungry glance over to Eli, who’s stooped over the table reading the paper, pretending not to listen to my conversation. I’m going to need at least thirty-five minutes to say goodbye to him.
“A little,” Dan slurs. “Maybe just a wee bit.”
“Why are you drunk in the morning?” I ask, although I have a very good feeling why and my throat begins to tighten. I grip the spatula harder, giving the bacon hell to distract me from emotional overloads.
“He’s gone into the hospice, Faith. They took him last night in a private ambulance.”
“Why? He was okay the other week.”