by West, Jade
His smirk was one I knew well. “You heard that, did you? On the grapevine somewhere along with my salary details, was it?”
I shrugged. “Probably. You know how it goes. I saw her on someone’s timeline way back when.”
The smirk held. He tugged his tie free from his collar. “We’re separated. Naomi and I are… distant. My life isn’t quite what it used to be…”
With that he must have pressed a button on his handset and the view changed. The TV that had been casting shadows was off now, but was a big flat screen on a dresser. There was a suitcase on a rack, open. Some shirts hung on a wardrobe door as he gave me a panorama of what was clearly a hotel room. The pictures on the wall were stock and standard, the place plush but soulless.
“I guess that’s not just a work meeting holing you up for the night?” I pushed.
“Not exactly,” he admitted. “I’m supposed to be finding myself a new pad, but work’s been intense for a while. A long while. I haven’t really been looking.”
I hoped my nod and expression were apologetic, even though my heart was tingling. “Sorry to hear about your break up. I know how hard they can be.”
“Don’t bet on it in this instance,” he said. “It was a long time coming.”
I still had the room in view and not him. I wondered if I should show him my own surroundings and admit I was based in the tiny little terrace alongside the recreation ground we’d passed so often on our way to high school.
“How about you?” he pushed, and his face reappeared on screen. “I should be sorry to hear about your Sawyer loss too, I guess, even though I think he’s a prick and a half.”
My head shake was easy. “Don’t be,” I mimicked. “It was a long time coming.”
As usual he was direct. Confident. Cocksure.
“And how about now? Who’s entertaining your world these days? Anyone else delivering what that jerk failed to?”
My heart was pounding, throat dry with the tiny sliver of hope that he was prodding for details with purpose.
“Nobody,” I admitted. “Same old friends, same old family. Nobody else in the picture.”
The question burned in my throat. Such an obvious question.
And how about you? Anyone else in the big smoke entertaining your world these days?
“It was great to see you at the weekend,” I skirted. “I wasn’t expecting it… to see you back here…”
His confident tone held firm. “Really? That’s good to know. I was wondering if you’d really want to see me again after all this time. We didn’t exactly end happily…”
I pushed myself back in the chair and tipped my head back, not wanting to go back there to the bad break up, not yet.
“We were kids,” I said. “Kids who meant a lot to each other, but it’s always going to be hard at that age to get it right, don’t you think?”
“And what about as adults?” he pushed. “You think we’re adults who can maybe pick up and answer those kid-messed-up questions at some point?”
I could barely even string my thoughts together. My heart was ragged as my eyes met his on that screen all over again.
“I’d love to try to answer some questions,” I told him, and sounded so vulnerable. So raw. So open. So desperate?
“Me too,” he said. “I’ve not been able to think about much else since piling in the car last week and heading back across country.”
“You came to see Ryan, didn’t you?” I asked. “Did you enjoy it? Think you’ll be back anytime soon?”
His smile wasn’t nearly so cocksure as he nodded. “Yeah, I came to see Ryan. Or so I told myself. Right now I wouldn’t be quite so sure.” I’d forgotten just how much his hazel eyes twinkled when we were talking close, even over the virtual ether. “I enjoyed seeing Ryan a lot. He always was a great friend to me.”
I pushed again. “How about coming back for another visit?”
“That depends what I’m coming back for.”
His head tipped. Teasing. Like he’d always done when he was weighing up something.
Something naughty.
Dirty.
Something like us.
Like me.
Like what he wanted me to do.
The shiver inside me was deep. Desperate.
So damn desperate.
It shouldn’t have been there, tensing my thighs, but it was. It shouldn’t be happening, because this wasn’t something I’d ever believed could happen. Not after all these years with him in London. Seeing this familiar dirty sparkle in him wasn’t something I should ever recognise, or ever trust myself to recognise.
But I did recognise it.
“I’d very much like to see you again,” he said, and his voice was heavy. “I’d be very happy to come back for that.”
“We have a lot to say,” I pointed out with a nervous smile. “Past and present. So much to share, and quiz, and chat over. I wonder if we’ll be that similar… I wonder if we really will recognise each other… when we get talking… for real, I mean…”
The weight of that prospect hit home the moment it came out of me.
Adult responsibilities, and body changes, and so much left behind. Him being so… perfect. Me being so… not.
His stare was hard as he seemed to weigh up the potential changes for himself.
“I’m very different these days,” he told me. “I was just a boy back then, Things have… changed. A lot of things have changed…”
“I guess we’ll see,” I replied. “If you’re happy enough to come back to our little old world to talk it through, that is.”
“So much to talk through,” he said, and that smirk was back. “I’m stuck here in the city for the next few weeks. One of our major clients is having a major upgrade. It’s what I had to rush back for.”
“No problem.” My own smile felt crazy bright. “I’m sure I can wait a few weeks.”
“Really? You’re sure you can wait a few weeks?” he asked, cocksure all over again with a raised eyebrow.
Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.
He really was drop dead gorgeous.
“You said you couldn’t make it…” I giggled, feeling like an idiot schoolgirl all over again. “I’m sure a couple of weeks will drag, but not as much as a decade…”
“They’ll drag alright,” he told me, and that smirk was intoxicating. “Just as well we have video calls, isn’t it?”
And it was his tone, the glint in his eye.
Filthy.
Dirty.
So much dirtier than I’d have imagined in my good girl Maisie world.
I didn’t know what to say. What to believe. What to risk, or chance, or push for answers.
It was just as well I heard footsteps overhead and the creak of Freddie’s bedroom door opening.
“I have to go,” I said, because I did. I needed to check the little guy was back in bed ok and tucked up tight after his toilet break. “Freddie’s up.”
“Of course,” he replied. “You have my number. Please feel free to call.”
“Thanks for giving it to me,” I said. “Goodnight, Ollie.”
“Goodnight, Maisie,” he said, and just like that the screen window turned black.
And I grinned.
Oh how I grinned. My whole heart was leaping and bounding as my legs kicked out at the open air and my breathing was ragged as all living shit.
Excited. I was so ridiculously, insanely excited.
“Mummmmm!” the call came from upstairs, and I had to wipe it all aside. “Mummmm, are you there?! Please! Can I have a drink?”
“I’m coming, Freddie Monster, don’t worry!” I shouted up, and let my Maisie-Mummy sensibilities slam back home.
For now.
Somehow I knew there was slightly more than sensibilities coming calling in my direction, and they were all wrapped up in the drop dead dirtiness of Oliver Kent.
I couldn’t wait.
Chapter Ten
Oliver
I knew a telephone call
with Maisie Moore would have an impact on me.
I knew a video call with Maisie Moore would have an even bigger one.
What I hadn’t known was just how explosive seeing that sweet smile of hers on my phone screen would be, late at night, holed up in a hotel room. I didn’t anticipate how my fixation with that girl would be resting down deep inside, ready for fresh urges to snake on in and coax it all right out again.
I was rattling wild. My need for her spinning in tight little circles. Just like old times. So damn much like old times, virtually indistinguishable.
Naomi had been enough to keep me occupied through the years on the relationship front. She’d been enough of a distraction that I’d allowed myself to believe that it was really love and our life together was long-term. I’d wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe the ring I was putting on her finger truly meant permanence. But no.
As it turned out, on careful consideration, it was Naomi’s part in my business that had truly been enough of a distraction from Maisie Moore. Still, it was done. One thing I knew now, beyond every single city distraction going, was that I didn’t want to waste any more time.
I wanted Maisie Moore, take two. All of her. Sweetness and light, dirtiness and depths. For better for worse. For all my strengths and sins, and hers along with them, no matter what the cost.
I stared dumbly at the ended call screen, wondering whether she was left feeling anything like as explosive as I was. Her nervousness had been ripe enough to taste across the ether. Her pretty little expressions, trying to play it cool, the tip of her head, her tense little shivers and gestures as she spoke.
She wanted me. That much I did know.
The life in her eyes was the same as it had been all those years ago when she’d wanted me. Truly wanted me. When she’d gone crazy for my body next to hers, and my mind meeting hers and churning tight.
When she’d believed her future lay with me and not with that piece of shit Robbie Sawyer.
Fuck, how I wanted her right now.
I’d long since put aside my work to-do list for the evening. My belt was loosened in a beat as I dropped my phone on the bed beside me and slipped a hand down my pants. Finally.
Maisie Moore was intoxicating and always had been. To me she was a tempting little diva with a perfect smile, even more so for her innocence at not knowing just how desirable she truly was.
She still had that innocence burning bright, maybe even more of it. Her gaze in the lamp light. The tumble of her hair down over her shoulders, clearly all set for bedtime.
The glow in her eyes as she beamed with being a mother. A sweet, checkout-operating mother from a small town, hiding so much of that dirty little minx below the surface.
I wanted nothing more than to reach inside and tempt that minx right back out of her.
My cock stood proud as I tugged it free. I’d had days with Ryan stacking up, gaming until late on his sofa every night with nothing more than a quick jerk off in his bathroom of a morning.
This was different.
This was alive with genuine need and want and connection.
This was alive with the differences in me and everything I’d pushed since becoming a true man with true will. Everything I wanted to share with the girl who’d set my soul on fire when I was too young and naive to stand a chance of knowing what the hell to do with her.
I’d know exactly what to do with her right now.
I didn’t bother turning on the hotel TV channels and searching for some crappy porn as my backdrop. I’d done enough of that on my hotel stays over the years since Naomi and I had frayed at the edges.
My imagination was running riot with the thoughts of Maisie in her sweet little bedroom in that sweet little town, and everything I’d encourage her to offer. Because that’s what I wanted. That’s what I needed.
I needed to tempt and tease and coax dirty urges out of such a sweet girl. So many more dirty urges than I’d managed to tempt out of her when we were teenagers fumbling and whispering fantasies in the dark.
Having her back in my universe had set the devil in me free to whole new levels. Naomi had indulged the beast enough to keep me satisfied, but I was out of that now. Out of everything that would have been enough. My instincts were ready to pulse outside of damn business strategies and mindless number crunching all day long.
My instincts were ready to pulse with Maisie Moore, and those instincts were pure fucking filth.
My fist was frantic along with my breaths. My spine was rigid as I jerked myself to a guttural fucking climax that had my heels lashing at the bedcovers. I spurted hot and hard, over the crumpled shirt I should have cast off earlier in big fucking streaks.
And then it was over.
The hotel room was empty of everything but breath and the high pitch of electronics on standby. The traffic was a rumble down below outside, people going about their lives without so much of a thought of all the other strangers stacked up around them.
My life was in an open suitcase, packed tight and meaning so fucking little it was pathetic.
My marriage had turned into so fucking little it was pathetic.
My friendship with my sales director had turned into so fucking little it was pathetic.
I smiled to myself at how fucking pathetic it was. Two people who I’d labelled the staples in my universe were now nothing to me. Just two people that wanted to shunt me out of the business I’d built up from nothing.
I flicked on the TV, still on mute, just to get a bit of movement in the damn room. Back in Much Arlock, when I was still a teenager with big dreams, I’d have believed that the whole road of my life was shooting for this huge big city and this huge damn business and the huge damn bank balance that comes along with it.
I’d have been wrong.
The people whispering and gossiping over how incredible my life was, purely because I could afford to do whatever the hell I wanted in it, were wrong too.
There’s no point being able to afford to do whatever the hell you want in life if there’s nobody you truly want to do it with. And it wasn’t that I was a sorry-for-myself little jackass like one of those whiners back in town. Being one of those whiners would be the very last thing I’d accept as my lot. I enjoyed trips to see my parents and my sister, and I enjoyed some online catchups with acquaintances, and lunchtime meals with work associates and enough to keep me ticking on just fine.
But I didn’t want to be ticking on just fine any longer.
I wanted to love. I wanted to find my true soul and coax it from someone else alongside me.
I wanted to show the amazing girl I’d loved with every breath in me before I’d been old enough to know how valid that was just how awesome this city life could be, so far away from the quiet life she’d built herself.
I wanted to show her how alive she could feel to let me push her buttons in just the right way, when she was so wired on the urges she could barely contain herself.
I wanted to show her what it felt like to be with a man who really, truly loved her for her. A man, not the boy she’d caught herself up in before he was ready to know who that man could be.
I wanted to meet the son who’d become her world, and show him how much a man like me could truly love his incredible mother.
I wanted to cast aside her experience of loving such an utter moron as Robbie Sawyer and give her so much fucking more.
The TV images were the same old crap as every other night. My heartbeat calmed and so did I.
Because I was running away with myself. Too much, much too fast.
There was no guarantee whatsoever that Maisie Moore would buy into the life I wanted for us. There was no guarantee the conviction of my feelings for her were reflective of any feelings she’d had for me in forever.
There was no guarantee she’d think I was anything more than a piece of filth when my urges reared their head and came to face her. She could send me running back to the city with my tail well and truly between my legs and the porn channe
ls back in action.
Back here in this hotel room, knowing I should find a solid base for myself. Alone.
People have damn well survived worse. I smirked to myself and cast away the pity.
I didn’t do pity. I did goal chasing and ambition. I did pursuing everything in this world I wanted, and making sure I gave my all to getting.
Next, I’d be giving my all to getting Maisie Moore.
Chapter Eleven
Maisie
Tuesday had a sheen to it I hadn’t known in a long time.
Life was its usual self. The usual smiles at breakfast with Freddie eating his cereals. The usual chatter with familiar faces through my work shift. The usual ping from my mum at lunchtime asking how my day was going. My usual reply of great, thanks, and yours? But it was more than that. So much more than that. It felt alive, as though I was dancing through every moment.
And that, was the Oliver Kent effect.
I couldn’t stop thinking about him as I bleeped through people’s shopping, but these weren’t the nervous thoughts I’d been having the week previous that he might be showing up at the school reunion. These thoughts were different. Heady and magical. Wanting. Needing. Daring to hope, even just a sliver.
Kate had known me long enough that I didn’t stand a hope of disguising the Oliver Kent effect as she arrived in my checkout queue that afternoon.
“Wow, look at you,” she commented as I scanned her dinner supplies. “You sure are glowing bright.”
I’d been planning on filling her in by messenger that evening, but in person was all the more heart-pulsing. “We had a chat last night. A video call,” I told her.
I knew exactly where the mischief of her grin was headed, hoping she didn’t speak too loudly with sweet old Mrs Mason behind her in the queue.
“A video chat?! Oh yeah? So, tell me… how much of Oliver Kent did you see exactly on this video chat?”
I glanced at Mrs Mason, but luckily she was busy chatting with her neighbour Doreen.
“I didn’t see anything not completely above board on that video call,” I told her, feeling the burn of my cheeks. I really had become so much of a damn little goodie two shoes over the years, and I was feeling it. Feeling it hard.