I laughed out loud. “Can’t wait … for the chocolate mousse.”
She tried to look stern but it wasn’t working, and we ended up grinning at each other like a couple of teenagers.
She shook her head and thrust the cooler at me.
“Carry that. It’ll give you something to do with your hands.”
“That still gives me one free hand, Laura, and I can think of lots of things to do with it.”
“Great,” she smiled. “Carry this blanket.”
When we clambered down to the shore, the tide was a long way out and we had the whole beach to ourselves. Even so, I led us a little way along, for additional privacy. I had high hopes of checking out her tolerance to chocolate—specifically, having it licked off her.
“Don’t look at me like that!” she said, accusingly.
“Like what?”
“Like … like you’re thinking about chocolate!”
“I can’t help it. You started it.”
“Hmm, well, swimming now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I kicked off my flip-flops and yanked my t-shirt from the back of my head. As I glanced over at Laura, I could see her gaze was fixed to my chest.
“Made you look!” I laughed, accusingly.
“Oh God, busted!” she muttered, shaking her head.
“Your turn.”
I pointed to her shirt and shorts.
“What? Oh, okay. Just … be kind. I’m 48 not 28.”
“You look beautiful to me, Laura,” I said, seriously.
“Could you turn your back. Look, I know it’s dumb…”
“Okay, fine, but if you make me swim with my eyes closed, I’m going to drown.”
Eventually, she let me turn around. My eyes swept up long legs and a slim body. She was wearing a pink and black tankini, and she kept tugging the hem down, trying to cover up the roundness of her belly. Her breasts were high and firm, rather small, but the nipples were standing out in the light breeze, and I swear they were calling to me.
“You’re making me self-conscious staring like that,” she murmured.
“I can’t help it.”
She folded her arms over her chest defensively. I’d really had enough of that shit.
Ignoring the stiffness of her body, I pulled her arms free and wrapped them around my waist, then kissed her the way I’d been desperate to do since the first time.
As she relaxed into the kiss, her hands slid up the bare skin of my back, and if felt fucking amazing. I was instantly hard and couldn’t help rocking my hips into her.
When I felt her nails scratching my shoulders, I wanted to take her right there on the beach.
“Hallen, stop,” she whispered, dropping her hands and pushing firmly on my chest.
I tried to relax and leaned my forehead against hers.
“Wow!”
Her breath fanned out across my cheek.
“Time to swim,” she said with a breathy smile.
“Um, yeah. I’ll be right behind you.”
She looked puzzled.
“Laura, I can’t swim with a boner.”
She gasped then gave a small giggle. “I thought cold water could cure that problem?”
Leaving me standing, she ran down the beach and shuddered as the water washed over her waist.
“Ugh! It’s freezing!” she yelled.
A second later, she’d dived under the small waves then jumped up, the water pouring from her breasts, her face glowing with pleasure.
Yep, that boner wasn’t going away any time soon. I stumbled into the water, wondering if it would work as a flotation aid.
We swam for a while until Laura said she was too cold to stay in, and headed back to the beach. I waited a while longer because otherwise I’d want to follow and ravish her on the beach towel. I knew she wasn’t ready for that. Too bad that I was.
By the time I swam in, Laura had laid out the food and I was more than happy to chomp my way through it.
She fell asleep in the sunshine, and it was good to see her so relaxed. One arm was flung above her head, and her face was slightly turned away from me. Moving quietly, I pulled my sketchbook out of my backpack and began to draw, trying to catch the play of sun on her skin, and the movement of her hair in the breeze. Then I drew one of the sea stacks jutting out of the ocean, and the view to the northwest.
Tiredness began to pull at my eyelids, and I laid down the sketchbook and stretched out next to Laura.
I don’t know how long I’d been asleep but I could feel the weight of her gaze on me.
“Hi,” I said, feeling groggy.
“You look so young when you’re asleep,” she said, her voice wistful.
I frowned and sat up. “I thought we’d gotten past this, Laura.”
She shrugged her shoulders and looked away.
Obviously not.
I tried to take her hand but she pulled it out of reach.
“Did you sleep with them all?” she asked, suddenly.
“What?”
“Your clients. Did you sleep with them all?”
I didn’t answer, instead taking a drink from one of the bottles she’d brought. The water was tepid from lying in the sun and I could taste the plastic from the container.
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Just answer,” she insisted.
“No,” I said, meeting her angry stare. “Not all. Some.” Most.
“Great,” she whispered, shaking her head. “You screwed women for money.”
Molten anger bubbled up.
“So? You screwed your husband for a house with a pool and a comfortable lifestyle. Not seeing the difference.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock.
“Of course it’s different,” she managed to spit out.
“How? At least I’m honest about it. You said you hadn’t loved Jack for years, but you still fucked him.”
Her eyes grew large and I could see a conflict of emotions skitter across her face.
“That … that is completely uncalled for!” she snapped.
“Yes, it is,” I agreed.
Her lips clamped together and her eyes snapped at me.
“Would you have screwed me? That night Eloise scheduled you for my date. Would you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God,” she said, softly.
“Laura…”
“No, don’t say anything else, Hallen. I don’t think … I can’t do this. I want to go home now.”
She started packing up while I watched her in silence. When she wasn’t looking, I tore out my drawing of her and slipped it into her purse.
I don’t know why I did that—maybe I just wanted her to have something of me that was real.
We didn’t talk again. Every time I tried to say something, she turned up the music on the car radio even louder and refused to look at me. She dropped me at my house without uttering a single word and sped away.
I was pissed, but mostly at myself. I’d lashed out at her because her words had cut me. The worst thing was, she hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.
I was so fucking dumb. Of course a nice person like Laura would be disgusted by what I was. Hell, I disgusted myself.
I stared at the empty road, wondering if I was capable of having a normal relationship. On the present evidence, it wasn’t looking good.
I dragged myself inside, throwing my backpack onto the kitchen table where it skidded across the surface, taking a glass with it, and both crashed onto the floor. I cursed loudly and spent a miserable ten minutes picking up tiny shards of glass.
Tired, frustrated, and seriously thinking about diving into a bottle of tequila, I stood in the shower, wishing the hot water could scald away the memory of Laura’s furious face. So it took a few seconds for me to realize that someone was ringing my doorbell.
I thought about ignoring it, but like Pavlov’s dog, I’d been trained to respond to the needs of other people, especially telephones and doorbells.
I turned off the faucet and hunted for a towel.
When I pulled the door open, I was stunned to see Laura standing there.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, as if expecting that I’d slam the door in her face. “What I said, it was cruel and wrong of me. You’ve never hidden anything and … well … I wanted you to know I’m not like Sian. I mean, I don’t think how she thinks and … I’m sorry.”
I didn’t know what to say. I got that she was apologizing, but I wasn’t sure if she meant anything else—if she wanted anything else. Finally, my dumbass brain creaked into gear.
“Do you want to come in?”
She gave a small frown and her eyes darted to my towel.
“Oh, you were taking a shower. I don’t want to disturb you…”
“No, it’s fine. I was finished. Please, come in.” Please.
She walked inside hesitantly.
“Go on upstairs.”
She shot me a look.
“The living room’s upstairs—for the view,” I explained, gesturing toward the stairs.
I let her lead the way. I didn’t want to flash her inadvertently since I was only wearing a towel.
We stood in my living room staring awkwardly at each other. Eventually, I pulled myself together.
“Uh, I’ll just get dressed—I’ll be right out. Help yourself to…”
I stared at the bottle of Patrón Silver that was sitting on the coffee table. Maybe not.
“Or there’s a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge.” I waved down the stairs toward the kitchen, and had to make a grab for my towel as it started to slide.
When I saw Laura’s eyes dip down toward my stomach, I felt a flare of hope.
I dodged into my bedroom and fought with a t-shirt that refused to be anything other than the wrong way around or inside out, and the only jeans I could find were paint splattered, but I pulled them on anyway. I wasn’t going to wear any of my ‘work’ clothes.
When I sprinted back out, Laura was staring at one of my finished landscapes.
She jumped as I spoke.
“So, uh, would you like that drink now?”
“Yes, a white wine would be lovely. Thank you.”
I ran downstairs and pulled a chilled bottle out of the fridge, then carried it into the living room along with two glasses.
“Make yourself at home.”
Gingerly, she sat on the edge of my sectional sofa while I poured her drink.
She took a long sip and looked up to meet my eyes.
“I meant what I said: I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”
I shrugged and looked away. “It’s not like you said anything that wasn’t true.”
She bit her lip. “But it’s not who you are now.”
“Isn’t it?”
I wasn’t so sure. Is it possible to divorce your past from your present?
“You said you’d … retired?”
“I have. I don’t … I’ve given up the escort work.”
“Hallen, I…” she hesitated, clearing her throat several times.
I didn’t think I could take anymore tonight. I felt like a dog that had been told to get the fuck away one too many times.
“Hallen,” she began again, “I think…”
“Please don’t, Laura,” I said, rubbing my eyes tiredly. “You’re a really nice person, so I get that there’s no way on earth you’d want to be with a piece of shit whore...”
A loud crack sounded as her hand whipped across my cheek, snapping my head to the side. I felt a sting of pain as shock swept through me.
“Don’t you dare!” she shouted, her face hot with sudden anger. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that! You’re wonderful and kind and sweet and so damn talented. Don’t you dare talk like that!”
Her eyes were blazing and I really thought she might hit me again. Not that I cared, because the way she was staring at me had my cock trying to bust out of my jeans.
I’m not sure which of us moved first, but our bodies crashed together and her hands were twisting roughly in my hair. Our teeth clashed as our tongues fought for dominance.
It was hard to believe that this was the same woman who’d been so shy and unsure when I’d first met her. God, I loved seeing this side of her.
“Bed!” she hissed.
I picked her up and her legs wrapped around my waist. I crashed into the bedroom, thumping my shin painfully on the door frame before we fell sideways onto the mattress. I heard a ripping sound as she tried to drag my t-shirt along my body. I sat up to help her, and she tore it over my head then pushed me down roughly and mounted me.
Holy shit! This woman was on fire!
My thumbs circled her nipples through her shirt, but she knocked my hands away, leaning forward and biting my chest.
I lost control at that point, rolling over and pinning her wrists to the bed with one hand, dragging her shorts from her hips with the other.
She bit my neck—it was like wrestling with a wildcat. I didn’t know if she wanted me to stop or carry on. I hesitated and her hands slipped free, attacking my zipper. I had my answer.
But then I stopped her, gripping her wrists again and pushing her away from me.
“W-what?” she gasped.
“Laura, no. Not like this.”
She lay perfectly still, only the rapid rise and fall of her chest betraying her.
Then she turned her head away from me.
“Christ, Laura!” I said, desperately. “It’s not that I don’t want you, because I do—so badly!”
When she spoke, her voice cracked painfully.
“Then … why? I don’t understand!”
I wasn’t sure I did either because my whole body was burning for her.
How could I define or explain the chaos of emotions that were tearing through me?
“Because … because I want more than a quick fuck. I don’t want to be something you’ll regret.”
She turned to look at me slowly, her eyes heavy with unshed tears.
“Don’t give me a brush-off line, Hallen. If you don’t mean it, don’t say it.”
I growled with frustration.
“I do mean it. If I didn’t care, I’d have fucked you by now!”
She closed her eyes briefly, pain radiating from her whole body.
“Have you any idea how messed up that is?” she murmured.
It was my turn to look away.
“Yes.”
Her bitter laughter surprised me.
“We’re a hopeless pair, aren’t we?”
“No, not hopeless. The opposite, in fact.”
She stilled again, then reached up to cup my cheek.
I smiled at her gratefully and dipped down to kiss her, our lips meeting with a new softness.
We kissed for several minutes, allowing the residual anger to dissipate.
“Sorry I slapped you,” she whispered, her fingers tracing my cheekbone.
“That’s some right arm you’ve got.”
She smiled.
“I don’t think I’ve ever hit anyone before.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Should I be happy that I’m your first?”
“Yes, completely honored,” she laughed, then bit her lip worriedly. “Did I hurt you?”
“It was worth it.”
“I can’t tell you how much I regret what I said to you at the beach, Hallen. I could have bitten my tongue out as soon as I realized what I’d done.”
“Laura, it’s fine. I understand, I do. If we’re going to have a relationship then…”
Her eyes opened wide.
“You want to have a relationship?”
“Hell, yeah! That’s what the last 10 minutes have been about—for me, I mean. Look, I’d like to see where this goes.” My answer wasn’t a lie, just a tiny portion of the truth—but I didn’t want to scare her off. “Being with you … I really like how that feels. I’m going to be greedy for you, Laura. I want more than … I just
want more. Do you?”
She pulled a face. “I told myself I wouldn’t start … anything … for at least a year after Jack.”
“You’re working to a timetable?” I joked, feebly.
She gave a small smile.
“I can’t help thinking about … all your other women.”
“There aren’t any others,” I said, trying not to sound irritated or desperate. “Just you. You’re only the second person I’ve asked on a date in the last eight years.”
She blinked then shook her head.
“I’ve been with two men in my life: a boyfriend in college and my husband—we were married for 26 years.”
“Laura, I can’t take away everything that I’ve done. I wish I could. I don’t like who I’ve become. I wasn’t always this.” Her brown eyes melted into mine. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, but when you look at me like that I feel as if I’ve been given a second chance.”
She rested her head against my chest.
“I’ve lived in this house for nearly six years. Other than Katja, my housekeeper, you’re the first woman who’s been in my bedroom.”
Her voice was disbelieving.
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Just you.”
She sighed softly.
We lay there, holding each other—familiar yet unfamiliar.
We didn’t speak again, and a few minutes later she was asleep.
Her head was heavy on my chest, and one of her legs pinned mine to the bed. I felt a strange sensation of contentment settling inside me. She’d come back.
If she could really accept me for who I was and, more importantly, what I was, what I had been … it was a big risk—I knew that. I was damaged goods, but being with her, talking to her, I felt like I could be more than the sum of my past. I prayed she’d take a chance with me.
Was it love? How would I know? I’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. I’d thought that Paige might be special, but after that great New Year’s we spent together when we were both lonely, it had gone downhill pretty fast.
A soft glow of light filtered into the bedroom from the living room. Laura’s dark hair fell onto my shoulder and I could make out the fan of her lashes in the faint light.
I watched her for some time before I fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of the front door slamming shut.
My heart surged painfully and my hands searched for Laura, but the space next to me was still warm—but empty.
At Your Beck & Call Page 30