by Sk Quinn
‘Isn’t that how you treat women though?’ I ask.
‘According to who?’
‘No one.’ My mouth snaps closed.
‘No come on. Out with it.’
‘Stop changing the subject. This girl doesn’t sound so bad to me.’
‘Christ.’ Grey rubs his forehead. ‘Not bad? She’ll be terrible. Dropping hints about how good a family she comes from. Good god, no. I can’t be doing with all of that.’
‘You and Patrick are good friends, right?’ I ask.
‘The very, very best of friends.’ Grey’s face goes serious.
‘If you’re such good friends, why did you come to my bedroom last night? And this morning.’
Grey shrugs. ‘I like you.’
‘But I’m seeing Patrick.’
‘There was a time that wouldn’t have mattered. Patrick didn’t used to get all hung up over one girl. He thought the same as me. There are plenty out there. Share them around.’
‘Ugh!’
‘Okay okay.’ Grey holds his hands up. ‘Maybe that came out wrong. What I mean is, when it comes to a friendship between men, girls shouldn’t matter. That’s how Patrick used to think. Everyone’s fair game. If you can nail them, nail them. All’s fair in love and war.’
‘Oh yuck.’ I pretend to stick my fingers down my throat. ‘Does Patrick really think that?’
‘Apparently not now.’
‘But did he? Did he … with girls you’d been with?’
‘All the time.’
‘I thought I knew him. I’d never think … I didn’t think he was that sort of man.’
‘No one knows him like I do,’ says Grey.
‘Anyway.’ I shake my head. ‘That doesn’t matter right now. Look, can you just give me Anise’s number? I really need it.’
‘And I need a date.’
‘Number first.’
‘So you’ll come to the party?’
‘I’ll do anything to get that number.’
‘Why not ask Patrick for it?’
‘Patrick is out in the woods somewhere.’
‘Ah yes. Clearing his head.’
‘You’ve talked to him?’
‘Briefly.’
I frown. ‘Did he … did he mention what happened last night?’
50
‘Not a dicky bird,’ says Grey. ‘But then I never expected him too. Once Patrick has said his piece he’s said it. No sense in rehashing everything.’
‘Can I have the number then?’
‘No problem.’ Grey opens the desk drawer and pulls out a blue address book.
‘Aren’t you worried I’ll just take the number but won’t go through with the date?’ I ask.
Grey laughs. ‘You’ll go through with it.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because Patrick wouldn’t fall for a liar. No. You’re decent all the way through. Just like he is.’
‘Maybe Patrick doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.’ I glance down at the phone book.
‘Patrick?’ Grey flicks through pages. ‘He knows you. No one fools him. He sees through everybody. Even me.’ Grey stops flicking. ‘Anise. Here she is.’ Grey hands me the address book.
‘Thanks.’ I pull out my mobile and dial the number.
It rings immediately, but no one picks up.
After a few rings, the phone goes to answer machine.
My stomach turns over. I ring again and this time she picks up.
‘Hello?’ Her voice is quiet.
‘Anise? Are you all right? Is Bertie with you?’
‘Sera? Oh yes, yes. Everything is fine. We’re all fine. We’re having such a good time we thought we’d stay longer.’
I frown. She doesn’t sound fine.
‘Can I talk to Bertie?’
‘Oh um … yes. Of course. Hang on.’
There’s shuffling and footsteps.
Then I hear Bertie’s light breathing.
‘Bertie?’
‘He-llo Sera.’
I break into a big smile. ‘Bertie! It’s so good to hear your voice. I can’t tell you how much I’m missing you.’
‘I’m at Euro Disney,’ says Bertie.
‘I know. I heard you were staying a little longer. Have you met Mickey Mouse?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what about Minnie Mouse?’
‘No.’
‘What have you been doing?’
‘Eating hot dogs.’
‘Again? Aren’t you sick of hot dogs by now?’ I’m suddenly aware of Grey watching me and turn my back to him.
‘I really like them. Mummy says I have to go.’
‘Oh. Right. I’ll see you soon okay? I miss you.’
There’s a pause and more shuffling.
Anise comes on the line. ‘Hi Sera. We’re having breakfast, so …’
‘I understand. You need to go. Tell Bertie I love him. When are you coming back then? Tomorrow?’
‘Yes. Probably.’
‘You’re not sure?’
‘Not totally sure,’ says Anise. ‘We might have a few more days maybe. It seems a shame to cut the holiday short when Bertie and I have all this catching up to do.’
‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘It’s good you’re catching up. Okay. Well, can I call you again? Maybe later today?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thanks. And can I say bye-bye to Bertie?’
‘Um. He’s got yoghurt all over his hands right now. Can I say bye-bye for you?’
‘Put me on speaker phone and I’ll shout it out,’ I say.
‘Oh. Yes. Right.’
I hear the clatter of the phone being put on speaker.
‘BYE-BYE BERTIE!’ I shout. ‘I love you. Take care. Have a lovely holiday.’
In reply I hear a quiet: ‘Bye-bye Sera.’
He sounds okay. Maybe not completely cheerful, but he’s been through a lot. Things are moving in the right direction. And it’s great he’s getting on so well with his mum.
I slip the phone in my pocket and smile.
‘Feeling better?’ Grey asks.
I nod. ‘A little. I hadn’t realised how worried I was about him until just now. But he’s okay.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘Do you even know who Bertie is?’
‘Of course I do. Patrick’s nephew. Little blond-haired fellow. Doesn’t say much. I’ve met him dozens of times. So do you want me to help you find Patrick?’
‘No. If he’s gone off alone it means he doesn’t want my company. I don’t want to go chasing after him.’
Grey nods the window. ‘Looks like you won’t have to. Guess who’s home?’
I follow his gaze and see Patrick striding towards the castle.
51
‘He’s going to be angry if he sees us together,’ I say. ‘But I don’t care. You’re right. He shouldn’t get so jealous.’
‘You’re really tough aren’t you?’ says Grey, his eyes crinkling into a smile. ‘No wonder you’ve been so hard to win over.’
‘Oh please. Could you stop that?’
‘You’re right about Patrick getting angry,’ says Grey. ‘He’ll be furious. Sure you don’t want to leave? Save yourself the fireworks?’
‘Why should I? There’s nothing for Patrick to be jealous about. It’s his problem, not mine. If me getting a phone number from you causes problems … well so be it.’
‘Why do you sound so nervous then?’ Grey asks. ‘Are you scared of him?’
I look down at my pale fingers and see they’re trembling.
‘I’m not scared of him,’ I say. ‘I’m scared of … like I told you before. Things being over. Patrick is different since you arrived. I’ve never seen this jealous side of him. I’m hoping he’ll get back to the person he was before. But if he doesn’t …’
‘You think you might split over me?’ Grey asks.
‘Not over you. Over jealousy.’
In the distance I hear the main door bump open
and closed.
‘He’s never been jealous before,’ says Grey. ‘What have you done to him Seraphina? You must be amazing in bed.’
‘Oh shut up.’
‘Seriously though. What’s your secret?’
‘There is no secret. He just … likes me that’s all.’
‘More than like.’
A shadow falls across the doorway.
Patrick.
He looks deep in thought. Light catches the blond-brown stubble around his taut jaw.
He’s wearing a green t-shirt that pulls tight against his chest and arms and black combat trousers. I notice he’s holding something over his shoulder. A piece of tarpaulin.
I take him all in, breathe him in actually – without even meaning to. God he smells so good.
He doesn’t look happy to see Grey and I together. His eyes flash like blue lightning and he turns his shoulder to me, blocking me out.
Ouch. That hurts.
‘I found this near the Thorburn stream,’ Patrick tells Grey.
‘What is it? Shelter tarp?’ asks Grey.
‘By the looks of it,’ says Patrick. ‘There are holes. I wanted to take a look at the shot.’
Grey and Patrick share a private look.
‘You think …?’ Grey asks.
‘Perhaps,’ says Patrick. ‘Grey. Leave me with Seraphina, would you?’
‘’Course, mate.’ Grey grabs a phone and a stack of papers from the desk and passes Patrick in the doorway. ‘Let me know when you want me back on duty.’
Patrick nods. ‘At ease soldier.’
I stare at them both in confusion.
When Grey leaves, I say, ‘So are you two best mates again now?’
‘We always were best mates,’ says Patrick, slinging the tarpaulin onto the desk.
‘Not last night you weren’t.’
‘I was just warning him off, that’s all. He didn’t realise what you mean to me. He does now. End of story.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ I ask.
‘It won’t stop him being Grey. He’ll still flirt. But he knows now where the line is drawn.’
‘Is that the way to deal with jealousy?’ I ask. ‘By warning people away?’
‘I have no idea. I did what felt right. Maybe it wasn’t right. But I’m new to all this. I’ve never felt jealous before.’
‘You’ve never felt jealous?’
‘Not over a girl.’
‘Then I suppose I should be honoured.’
‘Very, very honoured.’ Patrick moves closer, his blue-green eyes roaming over my face. They’re soft with hurt.
I catch my breath.
‘I missed you,’ Patrick says, his low voice hitting me right in the stomach.
‘I missed you too,’ I manage to reply. ‘But we need to talk.’
‘No we don’t.’ Patrick comes right up to me, his eyes bearing down. ‘Talking is the last thing we need to do.’
He kicks the door and it bangs closed.
‘Patrick. We should—’
‘Talking is what got us into this mess.’ Patrick brings his lips down on mine and his hand up to my cheek.
Oh god damn you Patrick Mansfield. We do need to talk. We do. But …
I find myself breathing him in. Letting him run his hand through my hair and pull me close.
He hauls me onto the desk and I feel him pressing hard between my legs.
‘Patrick. Wait.’
He slides his fingers under the waistband of my skirt, into my panties.
‘You don’t want to wait.’
‘We need to talk.’
Patrick pushes the tarpaulin and address book off the desk and lays me flat.
52
‘Patrick. Please.’
Placing one huge, strong hand between my legs, he moves it upwards, over my stomach and between my breasts. To my throat. His hand rests there, his breathing growing heavy.
‘Talk,’ he growls.
‘Are you going to strangle me if I say the wrong thing?’
Patrick shakes his head, closing his eyes tight. ‘I want to feel you.’ His fingers tighten a little. ‘Say something else.’
‘Okay. What was last night—’ I let out a moan as his fingers caress my throat.
‘Last night is over. Done with.’
‘Not to me it isn’t.’
Patrick lets out a low, shuddering breath. ‘Then you’re living in the past.’
‘So you won’t get jealous again?’ I murmur, as his other hand moves between my legs. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’
He slides his fingers back inside my panties.
‘You’re … you can’t order me … you can’t warn people away from me …’
Patrick slips his fingers back and forth, his other hand still stroking my throat.
‘I will try my very hardest not to get jealous again.’ Patrick’s eyes meet mine.
It’s getting hard to speak. ‘Easy to say now you’ve warned Grey off me.’
‘You don’t know him like I do.’
‘Patrick I would never … you didn’t have to warn him off. I love you. I’m with you. I don’t cheat.’
‘Then we have nothing to worry about.’
‘But … oh. Oh!’ I moan as Patrick fits two fingers inside me and pushes all the way up.
‘I was wondering how many fingers it would take to stop you talking. Looks like only two.’
I glare at him, struggling to get control back. ‘This is … important,’ I say, struggling for breath. ‘You can’t just – oooooh.’
I moan as Patrick slides another strong finger inside me.
It’s a little sore, but good sore.
‘So two isn’t enough,’ says Patrick, pushing all three fingers deeper.
I moan again.
‘Patrick … you … this isn’t about …’
‘Three isn’t enough either then.’
I feel a fourth finger push inside and suck in my breath.
Oh god that hurts. But as Patrick twists and turns his fingers, I hear myself moaning loudly.
He has me now.
‘What’s wrong?’ Patrick kisses my neck. ‘Cat got your tongue?’
I bite my lip.
‘I like the moaning,’ says Patrick.
He pushes his thumb inside me and I cry out as I feel half his hand pushing slowly, slowly upwards.
I half moan, half scream as he begins to pound his hand up and down.
He puts his other hand to my throat and holds me in place, pushing until I feel his knuckles.
‘Oh … my … god!’ I yell.
It stings. But as I feel his knuckles bash against me, a dull, bruisey pleasure builds and I begin to writhe and thrash around on the desk.
‘Oh. Oh!’ I shout, as he twists and turns his hand.
I moan loudly, my eyelids flickering.
He watches my face the whole time, his lip pulling up just a little at the corner.
Wow.
He’s still stroking my throat, but as I thrash around more he moves his hand to pin my shoulders down.
I’m too lost to say anything. And once he has my shoulders pinned down, Patrick is unrelenting. His knuckles pound against my backside and I writhe against him.
I’m lost in a world of softness and soreness and pleasure and pain.
An orgasm washes over me and throbs in parts I didn’t know could feel pleasure.
Patrick holds his hand still as I throb against him, stinging and sore but feeling so so good.
I let the waves flow up and over me and close my eyes as my body softens around his hand.
The hard table feels like the softest mattress and my body sinks into it.
I look up at Patrick, vision all hazy.
‘How did you do that?’ I murmur.
‘Make you come, you mean?’
‘With just your hand inside me.’
‘It wasn’t difficult.’
‘I’ve never come like that before. Not just by having something insid
e me.’
Patrick runs gentle fingers down my cheek. ‘You had the right thing inside you. Moving in the right way.’
‘It’s like you know my body better than I do,’ I sigh, feeling his hand slide free.
‘We’re not done yet,’ says Patrick, his hands coming to my hips.
‘What?’
‘We’re not done.’
I laugh, a little hysterically. ‘What else do you have planned exactly? I’m pretty sore.’
‘I’m going to make you come again.’
My eyes widen. ‘You’ve just had your whole fucking hand inside me. I can’t take—’
‘Oh yes you can.’ His hands go to his belt.
I see his huge, hard cock pressing against his trousers.
‘I’m going to give you the best orgasm you ever had,’ he says.
‘I think you already gave me that.’
‘Not yet I didn’t.’
53
Patrick takes a condom out of his pocket and frees himself from his trousers.
I shake my head. ‘I really don’t think I can take you right now.’
‘I promise this will feel good,’ says Patrick. ‘Better than good. Amazing.’
He slides on the condom and pushes my legs open.
‘Patrick—’
I’m sore all the way from my backside to my belly and as I feel his cock against me, I flinch.
Patrick places a hand on my chest. ‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘I know you. I would never take you too far.’
‘I’m really not so sure.’
‘I am.’
Patrick plunges inside me and I let out a yelp of surprise.
I’m all bruised and stretched, but to my surprise Patrick’s cock feels pretty good inside me. It kind of pushes the bruises in all the right places and reminds me of that orgasm I just had.
He moves back and forth, slowly at first. Soon it starts to feel better than good. Just like Patrick said, it feels amazing.
‘Oh. Ooooh. Mmmmm. Hmph.’
I start making noises I’ve never heard before.
I’m sore and bruised and achy and soft and warm and amaaazzzing.
As Patrick moves back and forth I’m lost in him. Completely lost. It’s like we’re the same person, moving together, feeling together.
Back forth, back forth.
Patrick has made me so sensitive.