by Julie Archer
“Really? And why is it up to you to decide?” countered Nate. “Looks like you didn’t think she was right for you when you started shagging around.”
The look that Liam gave Nate was enough to send a lesser man withering. Nate was clearly used to dealing with ex-boyfriends.
“I am here you know.” Clem pushed herself between the two of them, wanting their dispute to be over.
“It’s so cute the way you’re standing up for her,” taunted Liam. A horsey looking blonde caught his attention from over Nate’s shoulder. “Martha! Wait up, I’ll come with you.” He ran his gaze up and down Clem. “Not sure what I saw in you anyway.” He barged past Nate and headed off in the girl’s direction.
Nate pulled Clem towards him and hugged her. “God, he’s such a dick. I don’t know what you saw in him either.”
Clem screwed up her face. “Nor do I.” She looked up at him. “You, on the other hand, are pretty amazing. That was fantastic.” She smiled.
“Really? You think?”
“Absolutely. I mean, I’m aware of your stuff, and seeing you play acoustically really shows your talent.”
“It helps when someone inspires you.”
Nate’s words made Clem’s cheeks flame. Nobody had ever said anything like that before.
“Do you want to know how much?”
He drew her close and she could feel the beginnings of an erection pressing into her.
“Oh!”
“Is there anyone back at the house?” Nate leaned down and started placing tiny kisses along the side of her neck. Clem’s insides dissolved, a tingle running down the length of her back and coming to rest between her legs.
“Even if there was, we won’t be back there for at least ten minutes.”
“Too long, let’s get a taxi.” Nate grabbed her hand and pulled her out into the street, looking around. He waved down a passing cabbie and barked their destination at the driver.
The driver rolled his eyes, knowing that it was only a short trip, and drove quickly along the winding route out to Waterfront Lodge. Clem thrust a ten pound note at him, even though it was way too much for the journey. She fumbled in her bag to find the key as Nate stroked the base of her spine.
They crashed through the entrance and half ran up the stairs to Clem’s room.
Before the door was shut, both of them were already shedding their clothes.
“God, I love that lingerie company of yours,” breathed Nate, his eyes fixed on her body.
Clem had deliberately selected a sheer quarter-cup vanilla lace bra peppered with tiny stars and matching sheer panties that covered nothing and showed everything.
“Gotta test out the new ranges, haven’t I?” She laid back on the bed, propped up against the pillows and stretched one leg out in front of her, bending the other at the knee and placing it against her opposite thigh.
“Jesus, Clem.” Nate joined her, sliding his body between her legs and bracing his hands either side of her hips.
She could feel his cock hard against her and wanted him deep inside. It seemed he had other ideas as he bent his head towards her clit, his tongue moving against her through the sheer material of her underwear. Clem bucked underneath his touch, clutching at the pillows. As she was starting to climb towards the peak, Nate withdrew and sat back on his heels. She pouted, wriggling around on the bed, disappointed at his abrupt abandonment of her needs.
“Why did you stop?”
One side of Nate’s mouth curved up into a smile, his pupils dilating so his eyes were almost completely black. “I have other talents to make you beg for more.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “Not just confined to playing guitar.”
Clem frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Want me to show you just how talented these fingers are?”
A giggle escaped from her lips, wholly inappropriate for the level of heated excitement she felt. If he didn’t finish what he’d started, she was going to have to do it herself. Almost as if he read her mind, Nate pulled Clem’s own hand down, pushing it inside the flimsy band of her knickers.
“Why don’t you show me what you like?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nate closed the door and smiled. He went back downstairs, leaving Clem to sleep.
When the others had come back from the Festival, they’d all joined up in the games room, chatting and drinking shots. When Liam produced a joint again, Nate’s opinion of him almost changed. Only slightly though. He had still needled Nate about not having a ‘proper’ job and seemingly lorded it over him with his wealthy, banker lifestyle. There was a bit of whose-dick-is-bigger, which Nate was sure he’d won with the fact he’d played at The Wilde Park Festival. Clem had announced it was time for her to go to bed because she’d drunk too much tequila and he’d taken her up to their room as the rest of the group carried on drinking. However, by the time he got back to the games room, it was empty.
Nate helped himself to a glass of whisky from the decanter on the side and settled down in one of the huge leather sofas that flanked the fireplace. He sipped the drink, savouring the smoky, peaty flavour and licked his lips. The whisky tasted a little different to how it had done earlier in the evening. He glanced over at the decanter. As the only one drinking it, he hadn’t realised quite how much he’d got through. Maybe the amount of weed he’d smoked was having an effect on his taste buds. Luckily, it was his safe drink, and he would be unlikely to experience the same level of hangover that Clem would the following day.
Not ready to call it a night just yet, he pulled his phone from his pocket and started idly scrolling through social media. He wasn’t surprised to see that Clem had posted several pictures on Instagram. They were mostly of her and her friends, rather than him, which suited him fine. Despite the popularity of Blood Stone Riot, he was still uncomfortable about having his every move played out in public. Thankfully, so far at least, Clem understood and left him out mostly, although there were a couple of shots of just the two of them. He turned his attention to a sports website instead, reading about a potential transfer target for North Ridge Athletic. He was so engrossed in the story that he didn’t hear someone enter the room.
“Mind if I join you?”
Nate looked up.
Anastasia Green stood in the doorway, a glass of wine in one hand. The last time Nate had seen her, she had been curled up in Liam’s lap. He shrugged, then smiled. “Sure, go ahead.”
Anastasia joined him on the sofa and sat at the opposite end to him, her legs tucked underneath her. “Where’s Clem?”
“Comatose. I think that last round of shots did her in. I tucked her up in bed about ten minutes ago.”
“She never could handle her drink, that girl.” Anastasia laughed.
There was an uneasy silence that Nate was unsure how to fill. Here he was, sitting in his current girlfriend’s holiday house with her sworn enemy. He already felt uncomfortable.
It was Anastasia who broke the lull. “What’s going on with you? I mean, I know you’re seeing Clem and you’re this big rock star, but what do you actually see in her?” She used imaginary quote marks around the word ‘see’, clutching her wine glass between her thighs.
“I don’t think that’s got anything to do with you, has it?”
“Depends whether or not you want to know about her shagging around when she was with Liam.”
“Really? I don’t think that’s the case. More the other way around as I heard it. I thought you were one of the other parties he was meant to be sleeping with?”
“Oh, Nate, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Her hand crept over to stroke his thigh and Nate flinched. “Liam’s always been a player and Clem knew it. If she didn’t want to get screwed over, she shouldn’t have started screwing him.”
The blunt tone surprised Nate. He knew that in certain circles sleeping with the entirety of the group was acceptable. If he looked at his own friendship group, there was definite evidence of it. Clem didn’t seem the type thou
gh.
Anastasia shuffled closer to him, her thigh pressed close against his. He could smell her perfume; a heady, cloying scent mixed with the joints they’d been smoking earlier. It made him feel slightly nauseous. He blinked, his eyes heavy, suddenly finding it difficult to keep them open.
“I saw you play earlier, you’re very talented,” she purred.
Nate stiffened, he knew a come on when he saw it. If Anastasia claimed to be Clem’s friend, she must have seen how happy the two of them had been. And if she had, why would she want to damage that?
Her thumb caressed his knuckles.
Nate turned to look at her. “Anastasia, what are you…”
The remainder of his sentence was cut off as Anastasia leaned over and tried to kiss him, her lips narrowly missing his and landing on his cheek as he recoiled.
“Come on, Nate, you know you want to…”
Anastasia’s burr was making him sleepy. Why was he so tired?
He found himself unable to resist as her mouth sought his.
The sound of birds twittering cut through Nate’s skull. He rolled over and nearly fell off the edge of the sofa. He winced as he screwed up his eyes, scrunching up his face in revolt. There was a sour taste in his mouth and the stale aroma of alcohol invaded his nostrils. How much had he drunk last night? His gaze went to the decanter on the dresser, which appeared to be at the same level as when he’d had his final drink before Anastasia…
He shivered.
Memories of her perfume, her breath on his face as she tried to make a move on him, filtered into his head.
A shower would make him feel better, and maybe some breakfast. Then he and Clem could go and check out some of the bands playing that afternoon, perhaps find somewhere special to take her for dinner.
Buoyed by his plans, he bounded up the stairs to their room and opened the door.
The bed was neatly made, his clothes strewn over one of the chairs, his bag open on the floor exactly where he’d left it.
There was no sign of Clem.
The bathroom door was open and he headed towards it, hoping to surprise her. It was empty. It was also devoid of all Clem’s beauty products, shampoo and shower gel.
Nate frowned. He went back into the main bedroom and opened up the wardrobe. Again, empty. He did the same with drawers and found nothing.
Clem had disappeared.
He plugged in his phone and waited for the screen to light up. No messages, no missed calls. Nothing.
Where the hell was she?
The sounds of voices came from the kitchen as he headed back downstairs. By the smell of cooking bacon, he guessed the others were there. And, he hoped, Clem too. As he entered, he saw Leona, Alfie and Liam. There was no sign of Clem or Anastasia.
“Jesus, Nate,” said Liam. “You look like you’ve been awake all night. Good one, was it?” He winked.
“I ended up falling asleep in the study.” Nate rubbed his eyes. He felt anything other than awake right now.
“Ha! That’s bullshit. I hope you’re happy with yourself. Clem’s in bits and it’s all your fault.” Leona glared at him.
“What are you talking about? You know she went to bed before any of us last night.”
“How convenient for you.” Leona’s arms were folded across her chest. “So easy for you to get rid of her and then make a move on Anastasia. Honestly, Nate, you know how she feels about her. You’re a dick.”
Liam stifled a laugh. “All the time she was telling me how different you were, and you ended up doing exactly the same thing. With Anastasia as well.”
Confusion flooded through Nate. “I have no idea what you’re going on about? Anastasia came into the study after Clem had gone to bed. She tried to make a move on me, and I pushed her away. I wouldn’t do that to Clem.”
“Really?” Liam held his phone up to Nate.
There, in glorious Technicolour, was a close up of him and Anastasia kissing. Liam swiped the screen and a second image appeared, then a third. It was obvious what the two of them were doing, yet Nate had absolutely no recollection of the act. He had pushed her away. He was sure of it. He looked over at Leona, whose face was a picture of disgust.
“Yes, Clem has seen them. I believe Anastasia took great delight in sending them to her before she headed off this morning.” She shook her head, then turned away to focus on the cooking.
“Where’s Clem now?” Nate knew he needed to talk to her, to explain that nothing happened.
“She’s gone.” Liam shrugged. “I drove her to the station an hour ago.”
“Did she say where she was going? Has she gone home?”
“She told me not to tell you anything. Sorry, Nate.”
Liam left his phone on the table, before leaving the room. The sour taste in Nate’s mouth intensified as he reached for it, scrolling through the three pictures of him and Anastasia. No wonder Clem had left. To all intents and purposes, it looked as if he was about to nail Anastasia.
But then how come he couldn’t remember a thing about it?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Anastasia Green. Anastasia-fucking-Green. Again.
The name swirled around in Clem’s head as she sat on the train and tried to forget the image of Anastasia and Nate kissing. She wished she was strong enough to delete the pictures, but why do that when she could torture herself with them instead? She couldn’t understand it. Well, actually, she could.
Anastasia was a total bitch and would do anything to get one over on her.
It had happened at school.
It had happened with Liam.
It had happened again.
Maybe her mother and Dean had been right after all.
A tear slid down her cheek and she swiped it away. Leona had tried to persuade her to stay at Waterfront Lodge and talk it out with Nate, but she’d refused. She knew exactly what had gone on and didn’t need to prolong the agony any longer. Dean had been surprised when she called him earlier that morning saying she was heading for Marika’s country house. He quickly changed his plans and said he’d pick her up from the station.
Clem switched her phone off, not wanting to respond to anything from Nate, Leona, or, God forbid, Anastasia. Instead, she bought a bunch of glossy, thick fashion magazines and whiled away the journey idly flicking through them, looking for inspiration for new designs. She stumbled across one of the adverts from the Stelle D’Oro campaign; the one of her lounging on the bed in the exact same lingerie set she’d been wearing the other day when she and Nate had sneaked away from the festival. Anyone looking at her that morning, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, face devoid of any make-up and dressed in scruffy jeans and a shapeless plain t-shirt would not have recognised her as the same woman.
She stared at herself. She certainly didn’t feel like that woman.
The one in the picture was full of anticipation, her head full of suggestive thoughts as she awaited what was to come. There was no sign of being cheated on or everyone laughing at her. With a sigh, she closed the magazine and stared out of the window.
A little over two and a half hours later, the train pulled into the station.
Dean was waiting for her, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. “You’re late,” he huffed.
“Not my fault. When we left, the train was on time. I can’t be held responsible for the signalling works around Bristol.” She followed Dean to where he’d double parked his Range Rover and hoisted her overnight bag into the backseat. She noted the child’s car seat as she got in the front. “Is Barney with you?”
“He and Lauren are at the house with Mummy.” Dean climbed in and gunned the engine. “They’re looking forward to seeing you.”
Clem looked at the familiar scenery as it turned from town to country. An air of calm settled over her, as it always did when she came to this part of the country. It was a welcome relief after the tension she’d been battling since seeing those damn photographs first thing that morning.
“Auntie Clemmie!” A
strawberry-blonde haired boy threw himself at Clem the moment she walked through the door.
“Hey there, Barney!” Clem bent down so she was at the little boy’s level and ruffled his hair. “How are you?”
“He’s much better now. Luckily we caught it in time and he was able to make a full recovery. He’s still got a bit of a cough and he tires very easily. Although that can be a blessing in disguise.” Lauren Cameron entered the hall, her poise and elegance immediately making Clem feel like an awkward teenager. “Good to see you, Clem, it’s been a while. Barney, it’ll be time for lunch soon, why don’t you go and wash your hands?”
Obediently, Barney disappeared. Clem straightened up and kissed her sister-in-law on both cheeks. “Good to see you too, Lauren.” She turned to Dean. “Where’s Mother?”
“Having a lie down before you arrived. I think she had a migraine coming on,” said Dean.
“Right.” Clem nodded. A headache in preparation for the arrival of her distraught daughter, sounded about right for Marika. “I’ll go and dump my stuff, then come down for a drink.”
She went upstairs, heading towards her room. Despite the fact she didn’t come to the country house all that often, Marika had always kept her room there the same. It was decorated in a cool cream, with accents of lilac and eggshell blue, with a similarly coloured quilt. It was total chintz and reminded Clem of her twelve-year-old self. Sometimes, when Dean and Lauren were around, she still felt like that.
Clem quickly unpacked her bags and then headed downstairs. She was the last person to arrive for lunch and could sense Marika’s wave of disapproval before she had even sat down.
The housekeeper had prepared a simple lunch of chicken and salad. Clem raised a small smile as Barney slid the tomatoes that his mother had piled on to his plate over to his father.
“You look dreadful, Clementine, whatever is the matter?” Marika reached for her water glass and took a tiny sip.
“What about you, Mother? Are you feeling better?” Clem tried to deflect the attention from her. “Dean said you had a migraine coming on.”