She was too tired and her eyes were too fuzzy to read the rest of the contract word for word. At the end of the day, the contract was just a bit of fun. It clearly wasn’t legally binding. She could change her mind.
Was signing the contract all she needed to do to keep Nathaniel Gordon – a man who intrigued her, a man who was falling in love with her, a man who regularly turned her legs to jelly? She remembered the relief she’d felt when he ran after her in the street on their very first date; it was the same feeling she’d felt when he turned up at her exhibition. She knew that she was not ready to let him go.
Willow grabbed the pen and signed on the dotted line.
Early evening on Friday 10 th July – inside a house on Mayfield Road
Willow answered the door wearing a black, cotton dress. She didn’t usually wear dark colours, but today she wore them as a mark of respect. She was surprised to see Nat at the door, having already told him that she was busy.
He invited himself in and marched up the stairs into her bedroom. Willow followed, feeling helpless.
Once they were both inside her bedroom, Nat closed the door.
“We agreed that you would make yourself available to me from 6pm on Fridays until 6pm on Sundays,” he hissed. “Today is a Friday.”
“I already told you, I have plans.”
“I don’t think you understand how our agreement works. Perhaps you need more training. I have a good mind to spank you black and blue for this little stunt.”
Demi’s voice called from the landing. “Are you ready?”
“Just coming.” Willow grabbed her cardigan.
“You’re breaking our agreement so you can hang out with her?”
Willow ignored him and headed for the door. Nat blocked her path. “Do you think our agreement is a joke? Do you not understand what a submissive is?”
Ross’s voice could be heard downstairs, but his words were indecipherable.
“Wait? He’s going out with you?”
“I wanted you to come as well, but I didn’t know how to ask. You only ever want to see me one-on-one and I couldn’t face being rejected – not today.”
“Of course I want to see you one-on-one. That is when we’re at our best, Miss Cassidy. Now come with me back to my flat.”
“No,” she said, firmly. “Not this time.”
Demi shouted, “Come on, Willow.” She opened the bedroom door. “Oh.”
“Willow’s had a change of heart,” explained Nat.
Demi looked at Willow, confused.
“No, I haven’t.” Willow joined her sister in the hall.
“I didn’t realise you were coming,” Demi said to Nat. “But I’m glad that you are.”
Nat followed the two girls down the stairs and out into the front garden. As soon as he got the chance, he murmured to Willow. “Exactly where are we supposed to be going?”
“Falmouth Cemetery.”
Early evening on Friday 10 th July – at Falmouth Cemetery
The cemetery was empty, but the recently deceased felt present, their memorials decorated to the nines. A small walled garden containing plaques was enlivened not just with flowers, but with windmills, solar lights and garden ornaments in every colour of the rainbow. Jude Cassidy’s plaque sported a potted pink dahlia – her favourite flower in her favourite colour.
The four adults stood silently. Ross loosely draped a comforting arm around Demi’s shoulders. The freshly cut grass was aggravating her hay fever. Still, if there was ever a time when red eyes and a sniffle would be appropriate, it was now.
Nat put an arm around Willow too, pulling her as close as he could. Her face nestled against the open neck of his white shirt and she could smell ‘Le Beau Male’.
Demi cleared her throat. “Jude, we’re here to remind you that you’re gone but not forgotten.” She turned to the others. “She wasn’t one for speeches, so I’ll stop there.”
“Remember the speech she tried to make when you announced you were moving back in?” Willow reminded her. “She tried to express gratitude but ended up implying that you were useless.”
Demi laughed. “Yeah, she said I reminded her of my father. Almost in the same breath, she called him a selfish, good-for-nothing drunk.”
“She didn’t mean it to come across like that!” giggled Willow. “She just meant that you shared his penchant for packing up your life and moving to Cornwall.”
“The circumstances were somewhat different,” Demi quickly explained to Ross. “Dad abandoned me and my mum when he moved to Cornwall. I only abandoned a degree that I was already flunking.”
“It’s hard to believe it’s been seven years.”
They stood at Jude’s memorial for a while longer, exchanging stories and discussing how Jude would have reacted if she were here to see some of the things that had happened over the last year. The girls told Jude about repapering the dining room and putting Aunt Marge back on the Christmas card list. Willow told her about her exhibition.
Eventually, it was time to leave. They got to the gates of the cemetery and Demi asked Nat, “Are you coming back to ours for a glass of port?”
“Thanks, but I’m going to head home.”
Willow asked, “Are you sure? You’re very welcome.”
“Perhaps I’ll come over later. I need to pop home to freshen up.”
“You’re fine.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not feeling all that well.”
“Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. This is your day.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just feeling under the weather.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“That’s very sweet, but you should be with your sister.”
“I’m sure Demi understands that you’re not well …”
Demi nodded, looking dispirited.
Willow’s head flitted from one to the other. Eventually, she said sheepishly, “I think I’m going to head back to Nat’s for a bit.”
“Okay,” replied Demi quietly.
Willow gave her sister a hug. “Thanks for coming here with me. It means a lot.” She turned to Ross and clutched his arm. “Have a port for me.”
Demi took Willow to one side. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“It’s just a day,” she replied, bravely.
Demi patted her on the arm. “You know where I am if you need me.”
After a few more hugs, the sisters parted ways. As she and Nat headed along the seafront, Willow was keen to find out what was wrong. Flu, perhaps?
As soon as Demi and Ross were out of sight, Nat snapped, “Unbelievable!”
“What?”
“No. I shouldn’t say anything. I promised myself I wouldn’t.”
“About what?”
“Her!” Nat splayed his hands in frustration. “Trying to hijack your grief like that. Trying to make the day all about her.”
Willow was shocked. “I don’t think she did. Demi was just giving me the strength to come here and mark the occasion.”
“Didn’t you think the tears were a bit OTT?”
“Was she crying?”
“She was definitely snivelling. And what was that just now? Trying to make you feel bad about not going back to the house for port.”
“Did she?”
“She sounded all sulky.”
“Demi doesn’t sulk …”
“What she said was definitely overstepping the mark.”
“What do you mean?” Willow was surprised not just by Nat’s reaction but its intensity. “Demi’s been good to me.”
Nat shook his head aggressively. “She’s got you right where she wants you – gratitude. It’s the oldest trick in the book.”
Willow couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “She quit uni to come down and look after me.”
“By her own admission she was flunking. Tell me something, how much rent does Demi pay?”
“We own the house
outright. There’s no mortgage.”
“No, Miss Cassidy. You own the house outright.”
Willow stopped walking and stared at Nat, stunned.
“Sorry,” said Nat. “I spoke out of turn. I should have kept the way Demi looks from the outside to myself.”
“How does she look from the outside?”
“I’ve said too much already.”
Willow felt slightly sick. Nat and Demi were the two most important people in her life and she really wanted them to get along. She didn’t believe for one moment that Demi was trying to manipulate her, though she could be a little over protective at times; perhaps that’s what Nat was picking up on. Perhaps he was just in a bad mood because he wasn’t feeling very well.
“You said you’re a bit under the weather. What’s up?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I think I’ve just got a virus or something. One of those twenty-four hour things.”
“I’ll come in for a coffee in that case, then let you rest.”
“You don’t have to go.”
“No, it’s fine. You should rest. I want to join Demi and Ross for port, anyway. I think it’ll be nice.”
Nat suddenly appeared distraught. He looked off into the distance, his eyes troubled.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I didn’t want to say anything …”
“About what?”
“I can’t. Not today when you already have enough on your mind.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’m not ill. I just found out that a friend of mine has a brain tumour.”
“What?”
Nat said nothing.
“Shit.”
“Sorry for dragging you away from your sister. I just really need you this weekend.”
“Of course. Who is he? Or she? Is it … can they operate?”
“He.”
“Are you close to him?”
“Miss Cassidy?”
“Yes?”
“Do you mind if we don’t talk about it?”
“Um …”
“It’s been going around in my head all day. I just want to put it to one side and enjoy this time with you. I know that that sounds selfish …”
“No. No, it doesn’t. I understand.”
Willow walked up the hill wondering how Nat must be feeling. She remembered her devastation at learning that her mother had breast cancer. She hoped that Nat wasn’t going to have to cope with a bereavement, too.
They walked back to Nat’s apartment in silence. Nat didn’t want to talk about his friend and it seemed disrespectful to talk about anything else.
Eventually, they got back to his place. Nat put some music on – a gentle, piano concerto. He took off his shoes and sat on the sofa looking out of the window. “I wish it were just an ordinary weekend.”
“I know.”
“I mean, I wish we could just carry on as if it was.”
“We can, if that’s what you need.”
“No, we can’t. I had a surprise for you, but it seems inappropriate now.”
“Sometimes you have to put yourself through the motions.”
“I don’t want to simply go through the motions. I want out time together to be real, to be meaningful.”
Willow sat down next to him and took a hand from his knee. “This is real. Tell me more about this surprise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Nat mulled it over for a while, looking conflicted. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “Go and lie on your bed.”
Oh, that kind of present. Anticipation began to fill the gulf dug by sadness. “Now?”
“Yes.”
She felt a buzz as she hurried into her room and climbed up onto the bed.
Nat followed her in. “Now turn over onto your front.”
Willow felt uncertain. Usually lying on her front resulted in some form of spanking, whipping or flogging. She didn’t dislike a little light pain, but had hoped that perhaps, given the significance of the day, they might try something a little more tender. At least if he spanked her, it would probably result in sex. She rolled over.
She felt the mattress dip as Nat climbed onto the bed, straddling her. He unzipped the back off her dress and carefully wriggled it off. “That’s better,” he whispered. He unclipped her bra strap. She wished she could see his face. What was her feeling at moments like this?
When she was down to just her knickers, Nat said, “Now spread your arms and legs like a starfish.” She followed his instructions.
Nat grabbed one of her arms and stretched it closer to the top corner of the bed. She felt the cold chill of a handcuff lock around it. “Surprise!” he announced. “I fitted handcuff points to your bed.”
What? That certainly is a surprise.
“I’m going to be firm with you today,” explained Nat, peeling down her knickers. “You’ve had a difficult day. Experiencing physical pain will match your grief, then as the pain fades, your grief will fade too.”
I’m not sure that I want my grief to fade, not today.
“The handcuff points aren’t the only thing that’s new. I’ve bought you some special lavender and arnica ointment. Once your ass is sore, I’m going to rub it with ointment.”
Willow felt her insides glow. She liked the idea of being rubbed with ointment. It was loving. It was tender. It was nothing like him saying goodnight and then disappearing off into a separate bedroom for the night.
She imagined making love to him tonight and then falling asleep in each other’s arms. He wouldn’t let her sleep in his bed, obviously, but perhaps he might fall asleep in hers.
Ouch! The first strike delivered a localised shock. Willow looked over her shoulder. Crap, he has a cane!
“Did I say you could look, Miss Cassidy?”
“No.”
“It’s ‘no, sir’. Unless you want me to start calling you ‘slut’?”
Willow felt concerned by this threat to further reduce their intimacy. “No, sir.”
She felt another sharp sting across her buttocks. This time it smarted like nothing she had ever felt before. The pain spread through her flesh.
She winced as he struck her again.
And then again.
It was so far removed from the love she needed today that tears began to slip from her eyes. If she just pressed through, she’d get to the lavender ointment stage. Perhaps it would all be worth it.
Finally, the caning stopped.
“Good girl.”
She smelt lavender and heard him drizzling massage oil onto his hands. She felt the soothing touch of his slippery hands trailing it across her buttocks. The sensation was beautiful.
Nat had been right; as her physical pain began to fade, so did her emotional distress – replaced by an expanding sense of relaxation. She lay there for ten minutes, focusing on the sensation and scent as he massaged oil into her raw buttocks. She felt herself taken away from her grief onto some higher plane where reality was hazy.
Eventually, his strokes got gentler and slower, then stopped altogether. Willow heard him take off some clothes.
He lowered himself onto her back, using the oil to slide effortlessly across her skin. She was amazed when she realised that he was completely naked. It was the first time he’d been naked around her. He rubbed his smooth chest up and down the length of her back. His cock teased her pussy.
As the tip of his cock continued to tantalise her pussy, she found herself yearning for him to enter her. She whispered, “Fuck me.”
“No.”
What?
“Not like this,” he added. He unfastened her wrists and ankles. He gently rolled her onto her back. He traced her lower lashes with his fingers, brushing away the last remnants of her tears. Softly, he kissed her on the face, and then the lips.
He twisted onto his side and removed a condom from the bedside cabinet. He knelt above her and she wa
tched his cock as he rolled on the condom. It had more texture than she expected – veins on the shaft and a purple snood around its tip.
Maintaining eye contact, he lowered his weight onto her arms and gently slid inside her.
Willow felt her body moving with his, her hips dancing. She thought back to the caning. It really had made the love-making even more powerful, like standing out in the snow then taking a hot shower. She began to feel the muscles in her back tighten and her toes tingle.
His expression contorted and he began to thrust harder.
She knew that her body was reacting more strongly than usual and wondered if this was an orgasm.
Nat let out a grunt. He smacked his hips forwards, ploughing himself in as deep as he could. He withdrew and smacked into her again, finally falling on top of her, panting.
Willow felt her body continue to flutter. Is this an orgasm? Did we do a simultaneous orgasm? She found it hard to breathe under his weight and let out a puff. Nat heard and rolled onto his back, holding her hand.
“Did you enjoy that, Miss Cassidy?”
“I did,” she said, grinning. The fluttering eased but continued to pester her. She was so close … She whispered, daringly, “I’d like to do it again.”
Nat sat up, his manner changing entirely. “Are you trying to make me feel bad?”
“No! I thought you would take it as a compliment.”
“You won’t find a man who can fuck you like I did, and then fuck you again thirty seconds later.”
“I didn’t know,” she said, apologetically.
“You really are inexperienced, aren’t you, Miss Cassidy? You obviously need more training. But we have the whole weekend ahead of us.” He reached over and kissed her on the lips. As he stroked her hair she felt the follicles folding back on themselves, sending a shiver down her spine.
Evening of Sunday 12 th July – inside a house on Mayfield Road
Willow scanned the fridge for dinner inspiration. She wanted something fast because she was dreading a confrontation with Demi. She wrestled with guilt for staying away all weekend, reminding herself that Nat had needed her.
“Have you been at Nat’s?”
Willow jumped. “Yes. Where else would I have been?”
Demi was wearing her pyjamas and holding a cup of cocoa. “I’ve been trying to call you.”
Two Shades of the Lilac Sunset Page 10