Daniel only had that second beer, then Asra closed him out. Asra bumped into Elspeth and nodded his chin at the departing American. Daniel was slipping his jacket on as he stalked away, and at the last moment turned to look directly at her. She caught her breath and he smiled apologetically at her, like he’d done something wrong.
Elspeth stood frozen to the spot as he exited past three new customers. Asra and Rhys buzzed around her filling orders, and Elspeth suddenly caught Rhys’s shoulder. “I’m taking my break, I’ll be back in fifteen.”
Without waiting for acknowledgement, Elspeth darted around the back of the bar, wove through the middling crowd, and burst outside.
It was dusk, and chilly, the sky striped purple with clouds, and cars with their headlamps on zipped past, heading out of town mostly, but all the lights remained on along the line of shops bracketing the village green. She hugged her arms around herself, glad for the thin cardigan she wore over a plain green T-shirt, plainer jeans, and flat ankle boots.
There he was—Daniel striding across the street, and up onto the cobbled sidewalk. Elspeth dashed after him, unsure about calling his name.
She dodged a cyclist in a reflective helmet and jogged faster, just about to reach for him when he stopped and turned smoothly—a predator aware of his surroundings. His guarded expression opened up at the sight of her, and Elspeth put her mouth in a determined line, grabbed his hand, and dragged him down a narrow alley between the post office and the old bookstore.
Daniel said nothing, going with her easily down the unlit path, and she pulled him around to the back where the forest crept all the way up to the gravel delivery road. Ancient trees towered in straight columns, surrounded by lush undergrowth and younger trees, everything mysterious deep brown and evening gray-purple, the twilight coaxing her to this boldness. Wind hissed like distant applause in the high branches. “Here,” she murmured, leading him in, disregarding his fine slacks and polished shoes. The earth was softened with fallen leaves and mud, and she spun, put her hands on his face, and kissed him.
Her ears roared with a rush of embarrassment in the second it took him to respond, but then he wrapped his arms around her and pushed her mouth open with his. She leaned in and Daniel’s tongue swept into her with a demanding heat. Elspeth dug her hands into his hair, grasping his head.
He tasted like beer, and she laughed breathlessly, tugging his bottom lip with her teeth. She arched her back to press the length of her body against his as Daniel dragged his hands down her spine, down and down to her hips, where he hooked his fingers under her cardigan and T-shirt. His fingers were cold, and she gasped. He spread his hands against the small of her back, pulling her hips against him and she felt his hard desire against her belly through the rough denim of her jeans.
“Oh,” she said, tilting away to look down. Daniel kissed her cheek, her temple, down her jaw, but Elspeth did not offer him better access; she was too interested in his cock under those crisp black slacks. Even in the shadowed evening she could see the shape it made, and she slid her hand down the lapel of his jacket, over his tightly buttoned waistcoat, to his belt and started undoing it.
“Elspeth,” he said raggedly.
She hummed distractedly, pulling the slick leather free of the buckle. With a little tug she unhooked it, and Daniel groaned, moving his hands to her shoulders, gripping them.
The tip of his cock waited right there, pressing at the button, through the thin material of his knickers. She couldn’t help but skim her fingers against it, shuddering as he shuddered. Carefully, Elspeth unbuttoned the slacks and lowered the zipper.
Daniel backed up, hands on her shoulders guiding her with him, until he pressed against one of the trees. Elspeth kissed him softly, licking at his lips until he opened them, and she leaned in, her hands on his chest. His erection pressed to her belly, thick and so very warm. Just like his mouth. His hands moved into her hair, cupping her head, and Elspeth wanted to smile, it felt so good, but she was too busy to smile. She stroked her belly against his cock and Daniel moaned into her mouth.
Lowering her hands again, she slipped one under the waistband of his knickers. His hips jumped at the touch of her fingers around his crown, and Elspeth’s breath hitched. She rubbed her thumb along the slit as her nipples hardened, then she dove right in, grasping him. Her hand encircled him, and she lightly squeezed. Daniel was panting, his arms up, hands fisted together in his own hair, his face a dream of desire, lips parted, eyes closed.
She loved it, and slid her hand along him again, exploring the shape, the smoothness and slight curve. Rougher hairs brushed the back of her knuckles, and she wanted them on her cheek, she wanted her mouth around him, to taste the tiny beads of precum at his tip. She wanted floodlights to see everything, and time to enjoy it fully.
Gripping his hip with her other hand, Elspeth leaned in, brushing her nipples against him, suddenly remembering they were both fully clothed, him in his dangerous black suit, pressed and fine, except for his cock in her hand, and his exposed throat as his head fell back against the tree. Every lean inch of him pulled taught just for her.
She stroked slowly up his cock, then down again, touching the base and Daniel hissed her name again helplessly.
Distantly aware of cars and shops just outside the line of trees, the village closing down, Elspeth moved a little bit faster, and Daniel suddenly grasped her face and kissed her, then he took her wrist and squeezed, making her let go. She did with a tiny whimper of loss, replacing that hand with the other. Daniel tried to smile and brought her hand up to his mouth. He licked her forefinger, then her middle finger, and brought both into his mouth, sucking firmly.
It was Elspeth’s turn to moan. The suction pulled from her fingertips, along her hot veins, straight to her core, and she ached. Her pussy was enflamed; she could feel it throbbing with her pulse, so good it almost hurt.
Daniel licked her fingers again, and her ring and pinky fingers, then bit her thumb teasingly. He caught her gaze, licked again, kissed her fingertips with little flicks of his tongue, then kissed the heart of her palm. She shivered, and he licked her there, dragging his tongue where his kiss had been. And then Daniel put her hand right back on his cock.
Oh.
Elspeth smiled, panting now, and slicked her damp hand against him. Daniel’s hand followed hers, and he touched her finger to his slit, smearing the precum there, and together their hands drifted down his cock. He squeezed her fingers around him, and she smiled wide enough that her teeth shone, learning what he liked and loving the tremble of his body against hers. When his other hand found her breast, he pinched her nipple and she gasped at the pleasure. He didn’t let go, caressing and pinching through her shirt and bra, and his forehead fell forward to knock gently against hers. Their breath chased back and forth as his hips moved, pushing his cock in their hands.
“Elspeth,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Daniel,” she answered, holding on to him with her other hand, wanting to shove it down her own pants and relieve the fiery, building pressure there. But she thought she’d fall over if she let go of him, and just the slick, hard feel of him in her hand, covered in turn by his hand, was so desperately perfect she couldn’t risk it.
His breath drew in, and he stopped, and managed to say, “I’m—”
Elspeth gasped and hopped away, eyes wide, watching as he stroked himself once more, twice, and then he came with his whole body.
That’s when she did it: she unbuttoned her jeans and slid her hand into her pussy, shocked at the heat and wetness, and she pressed on herself, cupping herself with her hand. Elspeth rolled her hips, legs shaking, as Daniel’s orgasm splattered up his perfect black waistcoat and he staggered back against the tree again. He was so open, so raw. Elspeth put her other hand to her mouth, covering her tiny sighs of admiration and lust, and rubbed her clit, pushing her fingers lower to skim against her hole, and up, down and up, imagining his hand back over hers, sharing this. She stared at him, and w
hen he opened his eyes, saw her, her orgasm hit.
Elspeth bit her own knuckles, pushing firmly on herself as she stood there riding the waves, desperate not to fall over. It added an edge to the orgasm, and her cheeks were hot because she’d just done that in front of him, in the forest a few meters from the bookstore and across the street from The Fort itself. Out in the open. Again. Only worse.
Better, she thought.
Shivering, Elspeth stroked herself lightly as she withdrew her hand, knees weak, and almost rubbed her hand on her jeans before remembering she had to go back to The Fort, right now.
“Elspeth,” Daniel said just as raggedly as before. “Come here.”
He leaned heavily against the tree, pants undone, hair mussed, and all the rest of him perfect but for the streak of cum on his waist.
All the visions this morning of elfin princes and the devil lounging under that flickering fire returned, here in the dark forest, awakening this uncontrollable lust.
She went to him.
Daniel took her hand—the one covered in her own wetness—and brought it to his mouth.
At her gasp, he grinned, and slid her first two fingers past his lips, sucking only very gently. He licked her hand all over again, this time not preparing her for anything, but finishing her off.
Elspeth couldn’t breathe, caught in the perfect, filthy, beautiful moment.
Then Daniel put her hand against his heart, pressing it to the waistcoat, and covered it with the lapel of his jacket.
“I have to go back,” she whispered.
“I know.” He left her hand against his muscled chest and refastened her jeans, eyes locked on hers the whole time.
The little tugs on her pants made her hot again. And when he let go, she pulled her hands against her own chest, backing away. “Good night,” she said.
He didn’t move, still undone, a line of skin shining at his waistband, and shadowy hair disappearing into his knickers. Watching her.
This time she wasn’t fleeing when she walked quickly away, but maybe heading towards something instead.
Chapter Seven
Daniel knew he was going to hell. And his mom would be the one to throw him headfirst into the pit.
He’d called her on Saturday so she wouldn’t call him instead, and the entire time he listened to the recent shenanigans of his nieces and answered her questions about Wales and what he was eating, he’d thought about Elspeth. Because for the first time in a long time he wanted to tell his mom about a girl.
But if he told his mom, he’d be lying to her, too.
And despite having served three tours in the hot mess of the Middle East, Daniel Kelly suspected this could be the worst thing he’d ever done.
At first it had felt good to keep the secret, to know it was too late for them before they’d even begun. If he’d already ruined their chances, he could just be himself, could just go where Elspeth took him, where his body and needs took him. Eventually she’d find out, understand he’d betrayed her before he ever opened his mouth, and they’d be done.
Seeing the end so clearly had made taking the steps to get there feel simpler, more relaxed, more right. Like her books, where knowing the ending wouldn’t let you down allowed you to enjoy the journey.
But what if he didn’t want that end? What if he liked her too much?
Christ, he liked her. Not only the way her body moved—spontaneous and light-footed; not only her mouth—with a hundred different smiles; not only her melodic voice and fleshy hips, or her wide-ranging style—he’d seen her in a summer dress, a cardigan set, a tank top, a sequined T-shirt; not only her tangled hair and certainly not only how wet she got for him. He liked how she thought about her family and struggled with protecting its legacy. He liked that she knew local from tourist at a glance and how she built a Guinness.
He liked how when she decided to take what she wanted from him she’d dragged him barely into the forest and just done it.
Daniel had yet to notice a thing about Elspeth he didn’t like.
Which is why he was standing outside The Fort on Monday, late morning, knowing it was closed, but also knowing she was in there, and alone.
They hadn’t been alone since Friday night in the forest. Because he’d been avoiding her.
After speaking with his mom Saturday morning, he’d gotten to know Caerafon properly, wandering the village with packs of tourists. He tried to feel the ground beneath his feet, take deep breaths, really ground himself in the day to day like he was supposed to. He ran into Evan Hughes out at the ruins of the old black stone fortress that once had guarded this beautiful valley where the two rivers came together. When Evan took him back to the ruin’s namesake for a pint, Daniel could hardly say no, but he managed to do nothing more than get caught staring at her bent neck as she concentrated on twisting a perfect orange peel and setting it alight in some fancy whiskey drink. The round of applause from her tourist customers brought her face up, flushed and grinning, and she saw him. Her lips had fallen open just slightly, and Daniel felt himself getting hard.
He’d asked Evan if all the photos on the wall were about Caerafon history, which set the old man talking for over an hour, and Daniel made his escape.
After another sleepless night, on Sunday he researched the most strenuous hikes on Snowdon Mountain and ended up walking a narrow gravel path that snaked along the steep, rocky slopes past lakes, cutting up in switchbacks toward an incredible ridge with views that knocked his breath away.
It had been the hardest he’d pushed his body since the Army had pushed it for him.
The land was desolate: treeless mountainsides covered in rough green moss and scraggly short bushes and grass. Sharp boulders that looked like they’d been shattered off even higher peaks were strewn about. It was cool and damp, gray light filtering through low clouds that misted as he returned to his car, but he was grateful the rain reminded him this was no desert mountain. The lighter pressed heavily in his pocket, and when the wind gusted, Daniel kept catching himself searching the sky for a helicopter he knew was never coming.
He ate that night at the Royal Vic Hotel, guiltily drinking a pint poured by some other bartender. One without a single smile, much less a hundred.
In his room at the guesthouse he’d watched some murder show set in a town a lot like Caerafon, but somewhere in Yorkshire, on his iPad, then tried to read, but it wasn’t one of the used-up paperbacks from Elspeth’s shelf. He couldn’t pretend to sleep yet, he couldn’t just lie there only to avoid thinking about fire and Alvin’s laugh by imagining her hands and the rough bark of the tree on his ass, how luminous her eyes had been in the dark while she got herself off just looking at him.
Of course he’d gone hard again remembering, and pulled himself off in the luridly floral guest room. Twice.
Lust-induced insomnia was better than his usual.
At dawn he slumped on the floor, back to the bed and the lights off, having managed to doze. He merely held onto the lighter, not flicking it on or off. That was an improvement, he told himself. Holding it without the nervous tick. If he could just remember Alvin in peace, remember the rest of his team without the panic . . .
As Daniel breathed in long ten-count patterns, wishing he was better at meditation without his therapist guiding him, he heard the quiet of the house break.
A gentle knock on the front door, the creak of Agatha’s steps down the front hall below him. The murmur of voices.
Scones. It had to be Elspeth at the door. Delivering her mother’s pre-dawn scones, in those tight running clothes. Christ, the way the sports bra pressed her breasts together, squeezing her back to highlight the strength in her shoulders, pinching around her ribs . . . He wanted to dig his hands under and unhook it. Set her free and knead his fingers where the bra had probably reddened her skin.
If he went down, she’d let him join her. Exercise would do him good. And a taste of her, more direct than licking her off her fingers.
But Daniel had closed h
is eyes and let his head fall back. He’d go tell her the truth. Later, after he showered and dressed, after he wrangled himself into looking better than the exhausted, gouge-eye depressive motherfucker he no doubt resembled at the moment.
The lighter was in his hand, the metal warm from being held. Daniel looked at it, settled in his palm with a little black shine.
The door downstairs had closed again, and he’d imagined he could hear her jogging away. He wondered if she’d sing on the way up the mountain.
When he finally went down to breakfast, the other guests had already been and departed for the day, so Daniel had gotten quite a lot of information out of Agatha regarding Elspeth’s family in general, and Elspeth in particular. Apparently, Elspeth had been disappointed not to see him, despite the dawn hour. Daniel had admitted that he’d spent more time with Elspeth last week, and that was all it took for Agatha to decide to help him in his cause, and she spilled. Some of it he knew already, from Pella’s file, but the neighborly finesse meant more than distant facts.
Elspeth was twenty-five years old, a Capricorn, and had left the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama one semester short of her degree in music performance because her dad was too sick to run The Fort and her mom was a wreck. She’d taken over during the last stages of Malcom Gwenlan’s cancer, and after he died, she didn’t leave because there was nobody else, the poor dear. Once several of the town ladies took a road trip to Cardiff to hear her perform, and Agatha went on a tangent about how beautiful it had been, and what a tragedy Elspeth had never returned to her music. But wasn’t she making a fine show of the pub, and wouldn’t her father be proud?
Daniel made all the right noises, mostly just eating three of the scones and a slab of fried ham, and all the tea Agatha put in front of him. Then Agatha brought up the offer to buy The Fort by some fancy company out of London and America—Pella, had he heard of it? He was American after all—and Elspeth was keeping her plans to herself, not even telling her mother what she wanted most to do. Her mother was dating a Londoner, and Agatha was proud of Alys for getting back out into the world, and she hoped Elspeth could do the same thing. Here Agatha smiled prettily at Daniel, green eyes nearly vanishing behind a fall of wrinkles, and he understood that was to be his role: romancing Elspeth.
Naughty Brits: An Anthology Page 41