The Birthday Present

by Lizzy Grey

  The two women laughed and inwardly, she cringed.

  Sam was already at the Perfect Strangers bar when she got there and he kissed her cheek.

  “Been visiting your parents?” he teased, looking her up and down.

  “Two friends, who’d have had a heart attack if I’d turned up at their favourite wine bar in leather.”

  “They really have no idea?” He sounded incredulous.

  “No. Let’s skip the drink and just fuck. I won’t have a real cock inside me for a full week.”

  “Did the vibrator arrive?” he asked as they walked to the booth.

  “It did, and it’s huge. Thank you again for the link.”

  Three hours later, she let herself into the house, wondering if Marcus was home. The drawing room door opened and he looked out.

  “You’re back,” she said unnecessarily.

  “Yes.”

  “How was Scotland?”

  “Cold. Freya, could you come in here, please.” She followed him into the room and closed the door. “I’ve just been going through my post and I received this.” He held out an A4-sized sheet of paper.

  She took it from him and read;

  Your wife is an alcoholic.

  Chapter Nine

  Shit, shit, shit. Who the fuck had done this? It was a computer print-out so it was completely anonymous. Shit.

  “Is this true?” Marcus demanded.

  “I’m not going to comment on an anonymous letter,” she said, and let it drop onto the coffee table.

  “Answer me, Freya.”

  “I like a drink,” she told him in a defensive tone. “So what?”

  “Christ.” Snatching the sheet of paper from the coffee table, he folded it up and put it in the inside pocket of his tweed jacket. “How long have you been drinking?”

  “Obviously not long enough for my husband to notice.”

  “Have you been fucking around, as well?”

  “Have you?” she asked, ignoring the fact that Sam’s head had been between her legs less than an hour before, and his eyes widened.

  “Well, I ran into James in Edinburgh...”

  She nodded. She’d have been amazed if he hadn’t. “Well, there is someone, but I haven’t been fucking around with him.”

  “You’ve slept with him since we got married?”

  “Once. How many times have you slept with James?” she added, Marcus glanced towards the window and she smiled. “So, we’ve both broken the agreement. Well done us.”

  “Freya, we can’t divorce until July. By law, we have to have been married a year.”

  “I know.”

  He nodded. “Good. Well, you have to stop drinking.”

  “Do I?”

  “Freya, someone knows about your drinking. Who could it be?”

  She began to count in her head. The owner of the off license. Half the cab drivers in London. All her casual fucks. Sam. Jamie. Was it Jamie? “I don’t know.”

  “Well, someone does. You haven’t done anything stupid, have you, Freya?”

  Stupid? All she had done had been completely necessary. “Outwardly, I have played the part of your wife to perfection, Marcus. I have also been bored rigid. So what if I drink a little bit more than I should? It helps to blot out the days and nights until July.”

  “Are you an alcoholic?”

  She laughed. “I like a drink. That doesn’t make me an alcoholic.”

  Marcus rolled his eyes. “We have three months until July. Then we divorce, you get your money and the house or apartment and we go our separate ways. Please don’t do something stupid, Freya, like someone seeing you with your… friend.”

  “Of course not,” she replied automatically. “But it also applies to you,” she added and left the room.

  Instead of going upstairs, she went down the stairs to the back door and let herself out. She hurried down the garden and out through the door in the wall into the laneway which ran behind the houses. At the far end, she hailed the first cab which came along. Giving the driver Jamie’s address, she sat back and opened her handbag. Taking her smartphone out, she checked the time. Two o’clock in the morning. Who cares if he was already in bed.

  Outside his apartment block, she paid the driver and got out. She leant on his buzzer until he answered.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Freya, let me in.”

  The door opened and she went up in the lift. He was waiting for her at the door of his apartment still fully dressed in a white shirt and black jeans. Pushing past him, she went into the apartment and waited for him to close the door.

  “You sent an anonymous letter to Marcus.”

  “Well, it was more of a note.”

  “Why?” she demanded.

  He sighed. “Because I had addicts as parents and I don’t want you to go the same way as them.”

  “I’m not an addict,” she informed him, jabbing a forefinger into her chest.

  “Freya, you are addicted to alcohol. You are behaving more and more erratically and you need help.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Oh?” His eyebrows shot up. “Fucking around, attempting to join an escort agency, having a fuck buddy – that’s all ‘fine’, is it?”

  She frowned. “How do you know?”

  “My receptionist told me that a ‘Samantha’ had rung the agency looking for work. ‘Samantha’ described herself and I knew it was you. I also found your profiles on some casual sex websites. You probably don’t care, but I’ve had them deleted. Freya, I know about ‘Sam’ because he works for me. You needed to be contained, so to speak, so I got him to approach you. Luckily, you agreed. If you hadn’t, it would have been a bit of a headache.”

  “Sam works for you?” she croaked and he nodded.

  “Someone had to service you, so I got ‘Sam’ to do it. Oh, and by the way, all his texts and emails were actually from me. I hope you’ll enjoy the massive cock vibrator until mine can fill and satisfy your pussy again.”

  She stared at him in disgust. “I don’t need ‘servicing’,” she spat.

  “Yes, you do,” he replied simply.

  Turning away, she rubbed her forehead. “Marcus says that by law, he can’t divorce me until we’ve been married a year.”

  “You should never have married him.”

  “Marcus offered me a million pounds,” she cried, turning back to face him. “A million pounds and a house or apartment. I’m thirty years old. I’ve never had a job. I saw the marriage as a way of pleasing my parents and to get financial independence. After all, it wasn’t as if I’d ever have to sleep with Marcus, and the marriage was only to last a for a year. But I hate it. I absolutely hate it. I’m so lonely I could scream. And I miss you so much,” she finished in a whisper.

  “You don’t need that money, I can look after you.”

  “I don’t need looking after,” she snapped, staggering back a couple of steps and making a grab for the door frame. “I’ve spent my whole life being looked after. I need to do this by myself and be independent.”

  “Well, it’s working very well, I must say.”

  “Bastard.” She lunged forward to slap him but tripped and fell forward. He grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. He half-dragged her to one of the sofas and sat her down.

  “Sit there and stay there while I put some coffee on.”

  She rubbed her ankle, hearing him in the kitchen at the coffee machine. She didn’t need servicing and she didn’t need looking after. When the machine began to gurgle and spit, he returned to her and sat in front of her on the coffee table.

  “It’s too late for coffee,” she told him.

  “Somehow, I don’t think we’re going to get much sleep tonight. Does Marcus know you’ve gone out?”

  Like he cares. “No.”

  “Want to ring him?” He nodded towards the telephone.

  “And say what?” she retorted. “Besides, he’s probably gone to bed, and he sleeps so soundly, he could sleep through the apoca
lypse.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  “How could you of all people send someone to ‘service’ me?”

  He shrugged. “You were going to go out looking for sex, anyway. I wanted it to be with someone I know and trust. ‘Sam’ serviced you really well, didn’t he? You went back to him for over a week which, considering you were gagging for any cock you could get up to then, was pretty impressive.”

  She looked away. “Well, I’m not going back to him now.”

  “Oh, yes you are. Unless you want me to send Marcus another note?”

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “I would.” He sounded resolute and her lip curled. “You will continue to allow ‘Sam’ to service you every Wednesday until your divorce. Needless to say, ‘Sam’ isn’t his real name and he will not tell you his real name, so don’t bother asking. He works for me and he is a good escort, so if you are angry, be angry with me.”

  “How long have you owned the agency?” she asked.

  “Six months. I bought out London Introductions.”

  “Did you sort out the bastard from the Perfect Strangers escort agency?”

  “Yes,” he replied and went to the coffee machine.

  “I hate the word ‘servicing’,” she called after him.

  “You used to hate the word cunt but you seem to quite like it now. What would you prefer, then? That ‘Sam’ fucks you? Offers you cock? Fills your pussy? I think we’ll stick with ‘servicing’.” He returned and handed her a mug of black coffee. “Drink that.”

  “Thanks,” she said and took a sip.

  He sat back down on the coffee table and sighed. “Freya, there are three months until July. Look forward to July and what it will bring.”

  “What will it bring?”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “Now that you know everything, do you still want me?”

  “Of course I do,” he said softly. “But you have to admit that you have a drink problem and get help for it.”

  “I love drinking,” she admitted. “I love the way it makes me feel.”

  “I fell in love with you the way you were before.”

  But she was boring before. “You don’t love me anymore?”

  “Yes, I do still love you, but I will not put up with your drinking. You have to stop. You have to want to stop.”

  “I can’t just stop,” she mumbled.

  “There are clinics where you can go and stay and get expert advice and treatment.”

  “But how would I explain it to everyone?” she asked.

  He gave her a little smile. “Explain what?”

  “That I’m an alcoholic,” she whispered.

  He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Who does know?”

  “Marcus.”

  “No-one else? Not your parents or friends?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” He got up, went to the kitchen, and returned with some computer print-outs. “I’ve been doing some research and this clinic seems to be very good. Book yourself in and get Marcus to pretend he’s a loving husband and tell everyone you’ve gone to a spa. His treat for your birthday.” He folded the sheets of paper and opened her handbag. He lifted out the small bottle of vodka and she flushed with shame. He put the bottle on the coffee table beside him and inserted the print-outs. “Go through it all with Marcus,” he said and she nodded. “Come with me,” he instructed softly. “And bring the bottle.”

  She did as she was told and followed him to the kitchen. “What is it?”

  “If you are serious about stopping drinking, unscrew the top off that bottle and pour the stuff down the sink.” Her heart lurched. “Are you serious about it?”

  “Jamie…”

  “You’ve just admitted you are an alcoholic. That is a huge step. Leave the bottle on the draining board and if you are ready to stop drinking, pour the vodka away. Yes?”

  “Yes.” She placed the bottle on the draining board and stepped back from it.

  “Okay. Come back to the sofa and finish your coffee.” He took her hand and they returned to the sofa. He sat down and she sat beside him, reaching for her mug. She gulped the coffee down, put the mug on the coffee table, and rested her head against his shoulder. “I don’t drink,” he said. “Never have, and I rarely take painkillers. I’ve always been worried that I might have an addictive personality like my parents. So, if you intend to stop drinking, there will never be alcohol in this apartment.”

  “I’m going to take the million pounds and find an apartment to rent after the divorce. I’m not letting him buy somewhere for me.”

  “Don’t you want to live with me?”

  His apartment was lovely but it wasn’t theirs. “Maybe we could pool our resources and buy somewhere really nice,” she suggested and felt him tense.

  “With Marcus’ money?”

  “My money,” she insisted. “I’ll have bloody-well earned it by July. Think about it?”

  “I will,” he replied and kissed her hair. “Does Marcus have a boyfriend?”

  “Yes. He’s from Edinburgh and called James.”

  He laughed. “James?”

  “Yes. It’s just as well I call you Jamie.”

  “Do you think Marcus saw him while he was in Scotland?”

  “Yes, he told me that he ‘ran into him in Edinburgh’, apparently.”

  “Did he ask you if you were seeing anyone?”

  “Yes, and I said yes that I had someone and I’d slept with that someone once since I got married. We then assured each other that we wouldn’t do anything stupid. Aren’t we civilised?” She felt him exhale a smile and got up. Feeling her legs shake a little, she went into the kitchen and stared at the vodka bottle for a few moments before picking it up.

  “Only do it if you are absolutely sure,” he said from behind her.

  “I know. I am sure.” Unscrewing the top, she held the bottle over the sink and tipped the contents down the plug hole. She put the bottle down with a crash and started to shake violently. “Jamie—”

  “Freya.” His arms were around her immediately and she sobbed into his chest. “I know. Just cry. Cry it all out.” When no more tears would come, he led her back to the sofa and sat her down on his lap. “Brave girl,” he whispered and kissed her forehead.

  “I am an alcoholic,” she announced miserably. “I just don’t want to be a drunk anymore. I’ll go to that clinic with or without Marcus’ help.”

  “Good.”

  “I also don’t want to be ‘serviced’.” The word made her shudder with disgust. “I’m going to sober up and wait for you. Can you tell ‘Sam’ thanks but no thanks?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Can I stay here tonight?” she asked. “No sex. Just to sleep beside you?”

  “Will you sleep after all that coffee?”

  She felt mentally and physically exhausted. “Yes.”

  “Come on, then.”

  He led her into the bedroom and the first thing she noticed was that her framed panties were gone.

  “Where are they? My panties? You said you’d hung them on the wall in a frame? Why did you take them down?”

  “I was ashamed at the way I’d treated you. They’re in my bedside cabinet. Want them back?” She smiled and shook her head. He passed her a T-shirt and she got undressed, pulled the T-shirt over her head and got into the bed.

  She woke a few hours later, not knowing where she was for a moment. Jamie had eased her back against him, moulding her body to his, with an arm around her. She exhaled a happy little sigh and closed her eyes. When she woke again, he was smiling at her.

  “’Sleep okay?”

  She nodded. “I’ve never woken up with anyone before.”

  Leaning forward, he kissed her lips. “Then, I’m glad it’s with me. I’ll go and put some coffee on, then I’ll drive you home.”

  She stared at him in alarm. “There’s no need.”

  “There is,” he said firmly as he got out of bed. “You, me, and Marcus
need to have a chat.”

  “Can I have a shower?”

  “Yes, of course. There are towels in the ensuite.” He went to the kitchen, while she got slowly out of bed and groaned. Usually, she would have gulped down a bottle of vodka as soon as she was up. Forcing the urge out of her mind, she went into the ensuite bathroom. Choosing a fluffy white towel, she left it on the radiator beside the shower. Returning to the bedroom, she peeled off the T-shirt and put it on a chair then jumped as Jamie came back into the room. “Sorry,” he said, but his eyes moved up and down her body and a hand moved to his groin. He quickly turned to go back out.

  “Don’t go,” she said and he stopped. “Come with me.” She went into the ensuite, hearing him follow her, and switched the shower on. Turning around, she reached out to him. Lowering his boxer shorts, his hard cock jumped out, and she held it in her hands. He let out a little groan and she raised her eyes to his face. His mouth was open but eyes were closed. His body was crying out for her but her body was crying out for alcohol. Could she block the craving for a while with his huge cock inside her? “Come into the shower.”

  He went to the bathroom cabinet, opened it, and pulled a condom out of a packet. Tearing the packaging open, he rolled the condom on and followed her into the huge shower.

  Positioning her against the wall, he kissed her neck and pulled at her earlobe with his lips. Moving down her body, he cupped her breasts, pushed them upwards and teased her nipples with his tongue until they were hard.

  Turning her around, he positioned her with her hands against the wall and her legs apart before closing his hands around her waist. He entered her with one quick thrust and she groaned. He thrust into her slowly and deeply and she focused all her cravings on the man who knew exactly what to do to pleasure her with his cock. There was no rhythmless pumping with Jamie and she grinned at the wall.

  “I’m going to turn you around again,” he told her, withdrawing from her. He turned her, placing his hands on the back of her thighs and lifted her up and onto him. She wriggled a little and wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted up and down on him, gradually increasing the pace and slowly bringing her to orgasm. It was incredible and she began to kiss his neck and face, never wanting it to end. She began groaning as she shuddered and jerked against him and he held her tightly as he came with a long sigh.