'Go on,' he prompts.
I start to ask him my question and the door swings open and in walks Harry. Now I’m totally off balance and the question has just flown out of my head. My attention's been diverted as Harry offers me a small smile.
'Miss Boorman, I take it. Nice to meet you,' he says holding out his hand.
I get to my feet and grasps his hand tightly and shake it. Holding his eyes to mine, I try and steady my breathing. He smells so good and the charcoal suit he's wearing looks far too good on him. Jesus Christ I’m in so much trouble.
'And you must be Mr. Cobain. Can I just thank you for your consideration.'
'Not at all,' he smiles. 'What do we think Thom?'
Thom hands me back my portfolio and gives a nod of approval.
'We've had the same company do our graduations for over twenty years. I know it's risky, but I like what I see.'
'So do I,' Harry smirks.
And I lower my head in order to hide the rising blush.
'Thom, will you get the paper work ready for Miss Boorman.'
Thom gives me a large grin and then disappears from the room leaving us alone.
'I'm sorry I've been quiet. It's a busy time of year for us academics,' he smiles.
'I understand,' I offer, even though I don't. 'You're not beholden to me, you know that. I don't expect anything from you and I hope I've got this contract because I've earned it.'
Harry moves closer to me and touches my hands with his, curling his fingers through mine. My heart's racing at the contact and my breathing slows as he steps into my personal space. I'm already so turned on and the idea of him throwing my against the wall and taking me is not making things easier.
'You've earned it. I am not the only person who decides this; it has to go to a board. You are the best and so you've got it.'
'Thom seems nice,' I say gauging his reaction.
'He is and very good looking.'
'I had notice.'
'It's just a shame he would prefer myself,' Harry answers smugly.
'Oh!' I laugh.
'I've missed you,' he murmurs tilting his head towards mine. 'And this suit really turns me on. I like the way your arse looks in it.'
'You've been checking me out Mr. Cobain?'
'I will always be checking you out Miss Boorman.'
He grabs my arse tightly and pulls me towards him so I now feel just how turned on he is too. We eye each other and inwardly I'm challenging him.
Do it. Throw me against that wall and fuck me. You know you want to.
He leans in to kiss me, but the door opening causes him to take a step back and I curse. In walks Thom with a small folder, which he hands me.
'All the information is in there as well as terms and conditions and contracts.'
'Great, when do you need this signed?' I ask.
'As soon as you can Miss Boorman,' Harry answers.
It was later that day he contacted me and demanded a meet up and that's when we started our illicit meetings once more. Well for a few more weeks anyway.
During our last interlude we lay in the back of his car half clothed, bodies still humming from the excitement and eventual climax. Our mouths dry from the pleasure we'd just given each other.
'I have something for you,' he said, starting to move.
'You shouldn't keep buying me gifts,' I admonished.
'And I'll just keep ignoring you. I enjoy seeing your face when I give you things.'
He handed me a small black box and I reluctantly took it from him. Opening, I can't help my gasp and his face lights up. It was on a white gold chain, my two initials LB moulded together encrusted with tiny diamonds and then dangling below, a small enamelled white rose.
'I had it made especially. It's one of a kind like you.'
'Like the white rose,' I whispered.
'Exactly.'
I threw myself at him and kissed him hard.
'I love it.'
'Now I hope you'll see that I'm serious about you.'
I hid my face in his chest with a small knowing smile. He's getting impatient. He hopes that this beautiful piece will be the key to getting inside my pants permanently. But after another week he stopped calling and responding to my texts. Cut off once more. I just can't get my head around it. Why give me something so beautiful in order to ignore me.
He really knows how to play this game well. I just have to be better, but something strange is happening inside me and I don't like it. Like some creature is stirring inside that I've managed to subdue for a lot of years.
Now I am in his wife's office absently fingering that same pendant while she writes me a cheque. The photo prints are in an envelope for her to check over and keep. The pictures I've taken to bring spice into a marriage I want to destroy. Leaving her office with more money in the account doesn't fill me with satisfaction, instead I just feel empty.
Since our argument, I've not spoken to George either. I've avoided his calls and texts, but I can't help but notice the change in Clair. She and he are definitely fucking and it just pisses me off further. I'm losing my best friend and Harry seems to be losing interest. My winning streak could be over or maybe I never truly had it in the first place.
Later that evening, having packed a weekend bag, I check the studio and any work emails. I want to make sure it all ticks over while I am away. I know Clair will have it covered, but the mood I am in, I don't really trust her not to get too preoccupied with her new playmate. Once I’tm out of the way, maybe they'd miss me and realise what I am to them. Well I hope anyway.
A banging on the studio's front door startles me. I freeze for a moment nervously. Who would be here at that time of night? Guessing it's George, I prepare to deflect any shit he'll readily aim at me. Going to the door, I unlock it and fall back against the wall with shock. Harry storms in, leaving me to do nothing, but lock the door and follow.
His face is almost white with restrained anger as he paces the floor. I move nervously further into the room. This isn't good. I've never seen him this angry and I am not sure my charm is that good.
'You fucking bitch. You have played me. What was it? Get cosy with the Miss's and then take me for a ride. I thought you were better than that.'
My temper flares at his accusations. How dare he? But I have to try and remain calm.
'I don't appreciate being called a bitch or being accused of something I haven't done,' I say evenly.
He turns towards me and I see fire in his eyes. I need to stand my ground, because if this is over I need to hold onto some dignity.
'The pictures... the anniversary gift. I bet you had a good laugh at her and me,' he throws.
'Well if I'd a told you it would have kinda ruined the surprise and technically, she was my customer before you and I. It may have escaped your notice, but I have a business to try and make a living from.'
My temper is now so high that I'm beginning to shake. I am losing control and I hate it. He's making me react to him. He causes me lose all my self-control and I think that lies the problem. He pushes me to the edge and I’m always scrambling to some self-control.
'And for your information, taking those pictures was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Taking pictures of your wife looking sexy so she can seduce you. Yeah, I had a right laugh. You know what,' I continue to shout, all the past days frustration rising to the surface. 'How dare you come here and have a go at me. You were the one to hit on me first. You came here and tried to finger fuck me after buying me one drink. You knew what you were doing and wanted it to happen just as much as I did. You promised me that you wouldn't hurt me, but as soon as I start to feel something you stop fucking talking. You buy me this,' I point to my pendant, 'and say that I'm special and then you leave me. No texts or fuck all. So tell me Harry who's playing games, because I get the feeling you're the one fucking with people's head.'
'I.. Leigh.'
'You know what, get out.' I push him hard in the chest and shove him backwards. 'Get the
fuck out of my studio and take this with you.' I scream ripping the chain from my neck.
I pound his chest hard and shove him towards the door. I've never felt such anger before and in that moment I just want out. I am hurting, really hurting and that makes me even angrier. I push against him, but he fights against me. Then, grabbing my hands he grips my wrists tight.
'For fuck’s sake Leigh,' he hisses.
Forcing his mouth against mine, I try to wriggle free, but he holds me firm backing me into Clair's desk. Wincing at the pain, anger turns into passion as I free my hands and tear at his jacket and shirt. He wrenches my t-shirt over my head and then grabbing my waist lifts me on to my desk. Next, off come my jeans and pants, which are yanked down my legs with such force I nearly fall off the desk.
Hot and breathless, his mouth finds my breasts causing me to moan and arch my back. His tongue works my nipples so much that I am pulsating to the point of coming there and then. Using my own trick, he grinds himself against my centre rhythmically and the friction of denim and naked flesh cause me to orgasm quick and loud, but still he carries on. He's not letting me go. I've pissed him off and now he wants to exert his power, but I don't want him to have it.
Summoning all the strength I need to recover, I grab his jeans and open them, yanking him free. He winces as I take no care in how I pull him out. If he wants to play hard then I will damn well play harder. Now it's his turn to moan as he pulsates in my hand. He's so thick and rock hard already as I thumb the smoothness of its bulbous head. He tries to pull my hand away, but I round him off.
'Don't fight me,' he hisses.
'I will always fight you,' I moan back.
I push and tug at him hard to the point I hear him hiss and in retaliation he nips me. Finally he manages to pull my hand away from him and drags me to the edge of the desk so I am barely upon it.
'I won't stop, even if you say so,' he breathes.
And before I can either protest or consent, he's inside me. Filling my insides and consuming me with a heated mouth. Using one hand to anchor and the other to hold onto him, I meet each thrust with equal vigour. Matching him equally. Because that's what we are equals.
‘You make me so angry,' he hisses through gritted teeth. 'You make me feel...you make me need you. Why do you make me need you?'
Every word matches his pounding and it's driving me on. I am so damn close and this is probably the hottest screw I've ever engaged in with anyone. I can feel myself tightening around his thick hardness and I know damn well that he's going to make me come so fucking hard. This is so much better than I imagined when I made myself orgasm thinking about him.
'Harry...Harder! You need to do me harder,' I start to scream.
'Jesus, Leigh, you are so fucking tight and wet,' he groans.
My muscles tense at his words and I tighten my legs around his waist squeezing him deeper inside me. He comes just before I do and fills me with his hotness, but I manage to push with one more thrust to gain my own satisfaction again while scream to the Lord God for mercy.
A few hours later we are still laid on my floor naked after another bout of sex. This time it was much more prolonged and thorough. He’s by no means a selfish lover and he certainly knows how to use what god gave him.
I'm used to much younger men, with toned bodies, but with Harry there are some flaws, that I don't mind. His chest is still firm with a smattering of fair hair that slowly leads south over a small paunch of a belly, which I am currently running my fingers over lazily as we lay together.
He apologized for being rushed and careless the first time, but I'd assured him that I am on the pill. Still the second time, he'd worn protection. He wasn't taking any chances in this, but the last thing I want is to complicate this game with some foolish accident. I am not some stupid school girl. There are much easier and less life changing ways to snare a man.
'I'm going away,' I say propping myself on his chest.
'When? Where?' he asks.
'Tomorrow, first thing. I'm visiting my folks. I need to get away and get my head together,' I say.
Harry strokes a stray hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear. There is a look of concern there.
'Because of me?' he asks.
There it is, the man's ego and all I have to do is massage it further then I have already. I place my head on his chest coquettishly so he believes I'm upset and hiding my eyes.
'What we've just done's made it difficult. I know you can't give me what I want and I accept that. But if this is the last time that I see you, then I need to go away and prepare myself for that.'
A fake sniff and the wiping of fake tears. I'm almost convincing myself. He rolls me onto my back and I turn my eyes away.
'Look at me,' he insists.
Still I look away causing him to nudge my face to his. There's a biting of my lip to add to the effect of innocence and girly. Make him feel that he intimidates me.
'Why would you think that this is the last time we'd see each other?'
'Because you only do one night stands. No mistresses remember,' I choke.
'You want to be my mistress?'
'Yes...no...I don't know. Harry, I just want to be with you. If that's the only way, then I suppose I have to accept that.'
He looks down at me and I can feel his heart pounding against mine. I wait for his response anxiously. After all he's now had me. The mystery and thrill of the chase more or less gone. It would be so easy for him to just get dressed and move on, but I can see in the shadows of the studio he's thinking. Mulling over in his head whether he can let me go and I hope it will swing my way.
'I don't want you to be my mistress,' he finally answers.
My heart sinks, I haven't been enough. I start to move from beneath him, but he holds me still.
'Let me finish. I don't want you to be my mistress, because you deserve more than that. I was telling the truth about Kat and I's marriage. We are barely holding on and I suppose I needed something big to make that jump. You have totally thrown me off course. Like a bloody whirlwind that's shaken me up. Jesus Christ Leigh, that's why I never contacted you. After those few weeks, my feelings were so strong that it frightened me and it made me wonder what I'd end up feeling if we were fully together.
'Then I saw those pictures of Kat and I just lost it. I was so angry. I thought you'd played me, but I was also furious that you'd had to do it. You left me confused. I want you so much, it's like I can't breathe without you. I know you may not believe me, but I haven't been able to have sex with my wife since being with you. That's never happened to me before. Never, even with the others. Now, we've...I don't want anyone else to have you. I want you to be only mine and I want to be only yours.
'I think you should go to your parents and get your head together. Think about whether you really want me and when you get back we'll go from there.'
'What are you saying?' I ask.
'I'll look into divorce proceedings. I will leave my wife for you, Leigh-Anne Boorman, if you'll have me.'
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Walking through my parent's front door fills me with mixed feelings. Home comings always do. I love my family to bits, but sometimes feel like I take a giant step backwards when I return. My mum fusses over apparent weight loss while my dad rolls his eyes at her fussing. She asks about my drive down and why George is not with me; my mum is one of those that has fallen victim to his charms. I lie and tell her he's busy at university. She doesn't need to know that we've fallen out and why. She'd probably defend him anyway. It doesn't take a genius to work out that my parents would not approve of what I am doing.
The home I grew up in is nothing like George's. I was brought up in a terraced house with two living rooms, a small kitchen and three bedrooms. It's neat and tastefully decorated. My mum is a very house-proud woman, who works part-time in the local school where me and my brother went. My dad works as a mechanic in the local garage and earns enough to keep us all comfortable.
Sam,
my younger brother still lives at home and in the middle of his A Levels. We clash like any other siblings and my homecoming is no different as he remains in his room with no word of Hi.
You would think that the ten year age gap between me and Sam would mean I'd feel protective of him, but I never have. He's always been nothing but a pain in my arse. Always demanding our mums attention and she in return giving it. I know it's jealousy, but where Sam had our mum, I had my dad.
You see in the back of my mind I know I wasn't planned. My parents were seventeen when I came unexpectedly into the world. Whereas Sam was planned. Ten years of miscarriages and one stillborn that is never talked about and Sam came along.
The blessed wanted child and that's what I saw when he came along. The child my parents desperately wanted rather than the accident. A little self-pitying I know, but I'm also adult enough to know that. So, yeah, our relationship is a tense one to say the least.
The drive to Kettering had been a draining one. It shouldn't have been, but early morning traffic and a few motorway accidents had messed up an easy run. That coupled with still feeling sore from Harry's assault on my body made the journey feel longer. Not that I minded the soreness. It was a reminder of where he'd been and just how good he felt there.
Still, I had taken the opportunity to listen to my latest playlist courtesy of Harry. A collection of punk hits to remind me of what I was getting into. The sort of man who was creeping under my skin. After being home for a few hours my phone rings, and going outside I press the answer button.
'What do you want?' I snap.
'I can't believe you just fucked off,' George throws back. 'You have become a real stress head.'
'Is this an apology?'
I can hear George sighing and for a moment there is silence.
'That's what I meant to do, but then...look, Leigh...I don't want to fight about this. I was really worried when I found you gone.'
'Really, I presumed you'd be busy with Clair.'
I hear him chuckle.
'You know what, for someone who doesn't give a damn about me, you're very jealous. Clair and I are just having a bit of fun.'
The Boleyn Effect (The Boleyn Ending) Page 11