by West, Jade
Plus this time, he was the one holding back for me.
I stepped out onto the platform and didn’t recognise it. I moved to the side as he stepped out to join me, and I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped there, a deer in the brightest headlights there could ever be. A trembling, baby deer at that.
He tried to break the awkwardness, I know he did. I could see the battle as he cleared his throat and summoned his professional voice.
“Chloe,” he said, but I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t let him be the professional Dr Hall.
Please, universe, please. Please let Gina be right.
I already had my eyes closed as I took those steps towards him. I wasn’t even sure how well my lips were lined up for his when I headed for his body and pressed up tight.
It would have been easy for him to step away. Easy for him to halt my motion. Easy for him to say no, Chloe, and make sure this was shelved for all time.
But he didn’t.
Gina was right.
He kissed me back.
His lips were warm, like the rest of him. Firm, like the rest of him.
His chest was as solid as I remembered, his arms just as welcoming and calm.
Until the kiss deepened and our mouths opened and his tongue met with mine.
Until that calm turned to fire, and fire turned to want, and want turned to need.
I needed him.
I needed him like I needed breath. Because he was life. Touching him was life to me.
His fingers twisted into my curls, and his mouth was as skilled as his hands. His tongue dancing with mine, and teasing. Tempting and claiming.
It was everything I imagined, but better. Because I’d never had anything like this. Like him.
My arms wrapped up around his neck and I sank into him, and I felt safe there, in my prosecco haze.
The train pulled away behind us, and we were left on the empty platform, kissing hard.
I never wanted it to end, but it did.
He sighed as he pulled away, and his fingers untangled from my hair.
“The train to Halsey will be here soon,” he said. “I can wait here with you.”
I shook my head. “Please. Please let me come with you.”
His forehead pressed to mine. “This isn’t professional conduct.”
“I don’t care about professional conduct,” I said, and managed to laugh. “I just ran across Harrow like an idiot, just to share a train with you. I’m not going anywhere now.”
He smiled at my giggle.
Thank you, universe. Thank you.
Thank you, prosecco, too.
It was the most natural thing in the world when his fingers slipped into mine and his hand squeezed tight and strong. But my heart was still pounding. My tummy was still an absolute mess of flutters. Flutters on top of flutters.
“My life isn’t what you’re expecting,” he said. “Please be prepared.”
“Show me,” I said, and those butterflies fluttered even harder as he led me away.
21
Logan
Her hand was burning in mine, and everything with any sense in me was bellowing that I should put her in a cab and send her back to Halsey. Yet no amount of logic or reason could make me do it to myself. My feet kept on moving, step after step.
We didn’t speak on the walk. Words had nothing to say.
My footsteps were loud and hers were light. She was a bundle of energy coiled up tight. Stunning. Innocent and fresh.
The streets were empty and familiar, but the journey was alien in the most beautiful of ways with her at my side. Her eyes were soaking in everything. Every nook and cranny, door and window. Every turn in the road.
Mine were all on her.
King Street approached quickly. She stayed right by my side as I put my key in the lock, barely stepping ahead of me as I gestured her inside.
If the journey home had seemed alien, it was nothing compared to seeing that girl in my hallway, staring up at me with sparkling eyes.
She blustered, and stumbled over her words, prosecco confidence dissipating just as soon as she was in my space.
“I need a minute,” I told her, and she nodded, gaze shooting around the hallway as I headed upstairs.
Olivia was waiting. Mum was asleep.
My thank yous were brief, and I could tell she was curious, glancing back over her shoulder as she headed to the stairs with me following.
I could almost feel the shock from her as she registered Chloe downstairs, and Chloe was shocked in return, dithering a little as Olivia raised her hand in a wave and said her goodbyes.
I stood still as she closed the door behind her. Silence.
My stare burned bright for Chloe as hers burned right back. A long moment of pause in that beautiful tension, and her heart was racing along with mine. I could sense it.
I didn’t explain Olivia. Didn’t say a word. Just stepped up close and tipped her face up to mine. My touch was firm and definite, and my lips were definite to match, pressing tight to hers before my tongue pushed in hard.
She murmured in the sweetest way, relaxing into my kiss as I took control, her shoulders dropping and her chest pressing to mine. Her arms snaked up and mine snaked down. I held her tight and her fingers stroked at my neck, then stilled.
I walked her backwards, my tongue still claiming hers. I pressed her against the wall and slipped my hands around her waist.
She tensed.
Self-conscious.
A skittish little sparrow fluttering at my touch.
I pulled away from the kiss far enough to stare eye to eye, and sure enough she was self-conscious. I could feel the thrum of timidity as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.
“Tell me how you’re feeling. We can slow things.”
“Please, no,” she said. “I’m just a bit…”
She dropped her gaze, and I felt the slam in my ribs. Such a beautiful little thing consumed by nerves.
Her humility only made her all the more stunning.
She shrugged, and those edgy fingers of hers met in front of her to do their twisting.
“Nervous,” she said, with a little giggle as her cheeks flamed pink. “I’m, um…” She took a breath. “I’ve only been with my boyfriend, and it wasn’t very…”
Another slam in my ribs as I realised just how inexperienced this little sparrow was.
Again, that inexperience only made her all the more stunning.
“There’s no need to feel nervous,” I told her, and brushed her cheek. I used the moment to reiterate my warning. “I told you my life isn’t what you’d expect. Please be prepared for that.”
“I don’t care,” she said, and she meant it.
I slipped her coat from her shoulders and she let it fall. Her dress was a delight on her, fitting perfectly, the darkness of the blue hugging her tight. I hitched it up, slowly, trailing my fingers up her thighs as I went, and she closed her eyes, breaths quickening.
I kissed her neck, teeth nipping as I peppered my way down to her collarbone, and further, dropping to my knees as her dress hitched higher around her hips. She was wearing black lace, slick to her pussy. Her scent was divine as I pressed my mouth to her wetness. Her thighs were quivering as my tongue lapped at her slit through the lace, and I realised then, in that flash of a moment, that I was lost to everything but consuming that girl. I tugged the lace to the side, and she was soft and delicious, those wet lips ripe for my tongue. I splayed her, and there was the hard little nub of her clit, begging.
A sweep of my tongue made her gasp. The flicks made her push against my face.
The suck and the nip made her buck. Self-consciousness fading under the need.
I got back to my feet after the tease, and her mouth was waiting, kiss desperate.
I hitched her up against me, and her legs wrapped around my waist, instinct loud enough to scream, body to body as I carried her through to the living room. I dropped her down into the chair and I raised her legs over
the arms, thighs spread wide.
She hitched in a breath as I lowered her dress straps, and her bra straps with them, freeing her sweet little tits for me. Her nipples were tight little bullets. My mouth was hungry for them. Fingers gripping flesh as I sucked. Hard.
Her head tipped back, arms raising over the back of the chair to hitch herself higher, seeking more.
I gave her more.
My fingers circled her clit, steady but firm. A slow, careful rhythm that had her circling her hips to match.
I took my time.
Her breaths were fast, mouth just inches from mine, her hips pushing her pussy to my touch.
Still, I took my time.
Her murmurs became moans, her wants taking over her nerves.
Still, I took my time.
Steady.
So steady.
My lips teased her neck. Teeth pinching flesh.
Her hips were frantic.
Still, I took my time.
Steady. So steady.
Her bucks became impulsive, her own rhythm lost to it.
Still, I was steady. My mouth was hot on her skin, nipping.
Steady.
Steady.
Steady.
And she was done.
Panting, squirming, soaking my fingers with her wetness. Her hands came around to grip at my hair, and I raised my face to hers, her eyes so hazy on mine.
“Yes… yes…” Her voice was beautiful.
She came for me.
Stunning.
Her eyes were closed tight when she tipped over the edge, and my lips pressed to hers, claiming her open mouth with mine as she whimpered.
Shudders, and squirms. Gasps and bucks.
Desperate and wild, as her body tensed, tensed, tensed… and then collapsed.
She collapsed into the chair, chest rising and falling. Her smile was a glow against mine, and that insanely addictive buzz of life about her flared up in a giggle.
“I can’t even…” she began, and she was heady, her arms wrapping around my shoulders. “I’ve never, um… not like that.”
She squirmed enough to look down between her legs and saw the patch of wetness on the chair underneath.
“Oh shit,” she said, but it was my turn to laugh.
“Don’t even begin to worry about that,” I told her, and her cheeks flamed up even brighter.
Another giggle, then she took a breath, and relaxed. Her hands came around to my face, and her thumb brushed my lips, and she was happy.
Happy enough that it resonated in me. Because I felt it.
I was happy too.
I’d almost forgotten what that felt like to feel happiness right the way through me.
I kissed her forehead as I got to my feet.
“I need a minute,” I told her for the second time. “Please help yourself to the kitchen. Tea, coffee, a snack. Whatever you want.”
“Thanks,” she said, and was already tugging her dress back down as I left her in her seat.
Mum was fast asleep upstairs, but the lamp was still on at her bedside. I stepped up close enough to check her meds had been taken. Her juice was on her bedside table, and her breathing was shallow but regular.
I switched the lamp off as I left, keeping the door open a sliver, then headed back downstairs.
Chloe was still in the living room, crouched down on her knees in front of the nearest bookshelf. The Bernard Cornwell section.
“Excalibur is my favourite,” she said.
“The Winter King is mine,” I replied, then headed on through to the kitchen.
I set the kettle to boil and leant back against the counter as she joined me. She was fidgety, but still glowing –a strange combination that made her all the more gorgeous under the harshness of the kitchen lights.
I tugged my tie off and unbuttoned my top button.
Her eyes were fixed on my fingers.
“Tea or coffee?” I asked.
“Coffee, please. Black, three sugars.”
I smiled at that and poured. “That will keep you up a while.”
“Good,” she said, and smiled that nervous smile, buzzing with self-consciousness all over again.
Then she cleared her throat. “The woman, who was here… is she, um…”
“She’s a carer,” I told her. “For my mother. My mum is upstairs.”
“Oh. Is that where you…”
“Yes,” I said. “I went up to check on her.”
I turned my attention to stirring my drink, and I could feel her eyes searching me. Wondering. Sensing.
“She’s dying,” I told her. “She has weeks to live. COPD reaching its peak. She can barely breathe.”
That gaze of hers widened, and I felt it. That sympathy.
“I’m sorry.”
“Everyone is sorry,” I told her. “Everyone is always sorry. It doesn’t stop the inevitable.”
“I had no idea,” she said, and I sipped my coffee.
“Nobody does. My personal life and work life are two very separate things.”
She nodded. “Is she awake?”
“No. Fast asleep.”
She nodded again. “I hope I’m not disturbing anything… if she needs you, I mean…”
“I’ll hear her if she needs me.”
Another nod. Nerves again.
It was my turn to clear my throat. It was my instinct that took the fore. My stance was tall against hers as I placed my coffee on the side and stepped over.
“Relax,” I said.
It was like we were in the ward, her looking up at me, full of such adoration it ate me up. Another nod, but this one was different. Heavy.
“I… I’m not really sure how to do things… Liam was quite…”
I smiled at her. “Give yourself up to me,” I said. “Feel whatever you feel, just let yourself feel it.”
I took her fingers in mine.
She placed her coffee on the counter and I led the way back through.
She kicked off her heels in the hallway.
“I’m so damn nervous,” she said.
She took a breath before we climbed the stairs.
22
Chloe
I wasn’t lying. Saying I was so damn nervous was an understatement.
My legs were shaky and my thighs were still soaking wet from where he’d touched me, and my clit was this crazy pulse of a flutter that was tickling right the way up through my tummy, and I’d never felt like that before. I’d never felt even close to anything like that before.
My lips were puffy, and my cheeks must have been scarlet, and I’m sure my fingers were jittery as hell in his. I’d never been more excited in my life as we climbed those stairs.
The landing was dark, but the glow from downstairs showed me the slightly open doorway as we passed by on the landing. I guessed that was his mum in there. I could hear the oxygen machine, a low steady rumble from inside.
Dr Hall’s steps were fast and firm as we stepped inside his bedroom. He turned on both lamps and my tummy did this lurch of nerves on top of nerves.
I couldn’t be in the light. Not like that. I mean, I had scars and birthmarks, and Liam always used to joke how my stomach did this weird jiggle when I rolled over. Embarrassing.
Dr Hall hung his jacket on the wardrobe door and took out his cufflinks. He turned away from me to place them carefully on the chest of drawers, and I looked at him afresh.
I don’t think I’d ever seen him without his suit jacket on.
His shirt was white and fitted just right. His hips were slim, and his ass was toned in his suit trousers. His hair was unique, and it was a strange feeling, how much I liked it like that. Shapes like a constellation across his scalp, from the nape of his neck up in three patches.
The man was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.
For real. He was literally the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.
His smile was different than I’d seen before when he turned and approached. His eyes were different
too. Darker. More feral somehow.
I’d never seen him like that.
So raw.
So powerful.
I’d seen him in control. Calm and in control. He was permanently the most solid and confident person in all creation in the hospital, but not like this.
This was a whole other kind of control.
Control of me.
I knew then that nerves wouldn’t mean anything to him. He wouldn’t back off from confronting them and pushing through, no matter how much I was screaming for lights out, there was no way.
I had to close my eyes when he unfastened my dress at the back and slipped it down. I sucked in my stomach and tried to raise my tits.
“Relax,” he said, and his voice was lower this time.
I tried.
“Relax, Chloe,” he said, and his voice was firm. In control like he was at the hospital. In control like he was as the doctor. “Just breathe.”
I listened.
I breathed.
Slowly.
Deeply.
I let myself feel the nerves.
“Good girl,” he said.
He led me to the bed, lowered me onto my back.
He unclipped my bra and tossed it to the side, and I couldn’t help but suck in my breath again, well aware of the birthmark on my ribs. Liam said it looked like a badly drawn llama. I’d never been able to see it as anything else since then.
And there was more. Further down. The scar from my appendicitis was really deep and made that jiggle in my tummy even more of a jiggle.
But Dr Hall didn’t care.
Genuinely, he didn’t care.
His eyes were every bit as feral, and every bit as hungry as they looked at me and my imperfections.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Chloe,” he told me, and I felt it. It gave me this weird little gulp and this weird relief, and happiness, and I couldn’t stop it. The word was out before I even realised.
“Thanks.”
One stupid word.
It made me giggle and cover my face with my hands.
His hands were firm as they pulled mine away from me.
And then he said it again.
“Truly. You’re a beautiful girl, Chloe.”
Again, I couldn’t hold it back. The words were goofy, and nervous.