by West, Jade
Kate tutted before she spoke. “Seriously, Maisie Moore, if you don’t take full advantage of video call technology soon, you’re onto a sad little number. I fully expect you to be seeing the finer details of such a fine specimen onscreen before the next call is through.”
“There may not be any finer details on the table for me to see,” I countered. “It was just a catch up because he couldn’t make the lunchtime meet. It might not ever amount to anything much more than that…”
My cheeks flamed hot as she laughed.
“Oh, it’ll be a whole load more than that, girl. Me and Amy saw plenty enough of the two of you eye-to-eye on Saturday night to know it’s just a matter of time before things get steamy. Believe me, we’ve been whispering plenty.” My heart was thumping as she paused. “He’s into you. You’re into him. Crank up the video calling and stop avoiding the obvious. We’ll be expecting the gossip.”
I had nothing more to say on the topic, not in my checkout uniform, so I smiled as I finished up her item scanning. Mrs Mason stepped on up as Kate paid, and it was conversation over. Nothing more than an I’ll ping you later before Kate gave me a wave and stepped on out of there.
Yeah, I was sure she would be, and Amy along with her.
The rest of the afternoon was pretty chilled as I finished up at work, did the school run and went home to cook up Freddie’s dinner. We chatted our regular evening chatter as he ate up his chicken nuggets. We talked about his school day and his fun and games with his friends. We talked about how he really needed some new monster toys I’d never heard of, and how all his friends were getting them, and how sweet little Harriet Jackson was moving schools at the end of the summer term and he’d miss her forever.
I joked along with my amazing boy through his bubble bath and tucked him up tight after his bedtime story, and managed to avoid the buzz in my stomach urging me to chance a text to Oliver Kent to find out if he was holed up in another hotel room.
Holed up in another hotel room alone.
Holed up in another hotel room and able to talk. Wanting to talk.
But I couldn’t chance it. Not yet.
I couldn’t finish up one little video call after a decade apart and be seen to be dripping with desperation for more. That would never work, not for anyone, surely? Surely I’d have to keep my cool a bit longer?
The girls in my group chat agreed when I finally got down to pinging them after Freddie was sleeping soundly.
Kate: You’re right to wait a bit. Not tonight for a text. Thursday earliest. Definitely.
Amy: Keep him keen. Treat him cool. At least a few days before you call. For sure.
Kate: Definitely for sure. He’ll be falling over himself wanting to hear from you by the time you reach out.
Thursday already felt like it would be a lifetime away. A whole ocean of bitten nails and wondering if there really was a tiny chance of something ever kicking off with Oliver Kent ever again.
Thursday earliest, I agreed. Definitely Thursday at the earliest.
Then to relax. I flicked on some baking show on the TV and flopped down on the sofa as the virtual conversation kept moving.
Amy: He’s definitely split up from that crazy hot wife of his? You’re sure?
Kate: Good point. You’re really gonna have to be sure before you get caught up in him.
Amy: I mean it’s obvious he wants you, but make sure he’s definitely well clear of her.
Kate: Well, well clear of her. And wear your best knickers when the action really does come about.
Daft smiley faces that made me smile at the phone screen and send one of my own right back.
His crazy hot wife was indeed a consideration point, in a whole load of ways. Just say this really could go somewhere between me and Ollie, even just a casual catch up somewhere, for old times’ sake… Just say it could go somewhere and I really was his next bed partner after the stunning supermodel wife he’d been hooking up with for a decade… how would that even work?
I mean sure, I could get my hair nicely straight, and my makeup fine enough to be presentable, and I had shaper underwear that had me looking curvy but decent…
But when it came to it, nude and spread wide, with all my faults and fixtures there for the viewing… would I really match up to the svelte, toned girl he’d known me as back in the day, when I was burning with a whole load more confidence than now? Because that was another truth at the heart of my late twenties – my confidence really had been screwed into the ground these past few years. Not least because of my less than ideal relationship history.
My love life with Robbie had been pretty active at the start, but with his beer drinking and long work days and slamming me missionary style with the lights off, it had turned into anything but horny at the end. I couldn’t even remember exactly what hot underwear I had left at the back of my knicker drawer.
These days were different. So much different. Oliver Kent was different – drop dead gorgeous as the whole of the local female populous was keen to point out – and so was I. Only my differences were stretchmarks and gapless thighs rippled with cellulite, and the fact my tits had both inflated and deflated through motherhood.
My phone pinged again.
Kate: You must be so excited, Maisie. Seriously, so excited.
Amy: Can’t wait to see you back to your old kinky self over him. She’s still in there, you know… Maisie the minx, ready to rumble…
The nerves spiked deep.
Me: I guess we’ll see where it goes, if anywhere. I’m really not sure Maisie the minx is quite the girl she used to be.
The baking show onscreen was on an advert break already and I’d barely looked at it. I realised I had my thumbnail tight between my teeth, the nerves already enough to have me chomping and feeling like a silly nervy teenager all over again.
Two more days of this. I had two more days of silly nerves before daring to reach out to him on Thursday.
Somehow I doubted I’d have any nails left by then.
Chapter Twelve
Oliver
I shouldn’t have been preoccupied. Sorting the test system upgrade onsite at Hadley and Mason’s should have been more than enough to keep my mind focused on the task in front of me, but it was anything but.
I wasn’t usually the kind of guy who checked his phone every fifteen seconds, but I couldn’t stop myself dipping into my suit jacket to check for text messages. Hoping for missed calls I would have most definitely heard coming through. Any sign of her.
The urge to ring her was so strong, but no. She was Maisie Moore, Much Arlock resident with a young kid and a chaotic town life to maintain, and I was someone who’d pestered her enough already with the chat requests. Who’d followed her from the high school reunion I shouldn’t have been at in the first place, and who’d sent his high school wingman into her workplace with his phone number.
No. She’d call if she wanted to. I’d wait all I needed to.
And wait I did. Tuesday turned into Wednesday, and Wednesday to Thursday, and Thursday night came and crawled by super slowly after my usual treadmill pounding at the hotel gym. I was watching the usual business mentorship show on TV with my laptop on my lap, cruising through our incoming company support requests to keep an eye on team performance while tapping my foot against the mattress after too much caffeine.
Until it came. The ping of a text message at approaching ten p.m.
I knew I was lost to all reason when the excitement rose like a tide in my chest as her name flashed up onscreen. I virtually tossed my laptop aside as my thumb swiped up the message details.
Hey. Hope your week’s going well. Wondered if you were free and fancied another catch up?
I glanced at the dresser mirror once, just long enough to brush my hair from my forehead in some semblance of neatness before clearing my throat and pressing that video call button.
I made sure my smile was bright as the call connected, but nowhere near as bright as it sprung naturally at the sight of t
he girl on the other end of the line.
She looked absolutely magical.
Her hair was damp and freshly brushed, still hanging in perfect little tails. She was wearing pink, some kind of dressing gown that looked like satin, and her lips were glossy to match. But it was her eyes, wide and bright and excited. Glittering with that attraction for me I’d come to crave. To need. To feel in every fucking cell in me whenever she was staring.
“Hi,” she said, and her voice was nervous.
Hell, how I fucking loved that too.
“Hi,” I said right back. “You look great.”
I loved the way her eyes dropped from mine. Always so modest. “Thanks. I’m really just ready for bed, nothing special.”
“Ready for bed looks pretty special to me.” I couldn’t hold back my grin, because I was there. With her. Even in this distance, across the waves, after all these years, I was there with her.
“Good week?” she asked, and her eyes focused back on mine.
“Better now,” I said. “Considerably better now.”
Her eyes widened. Breath caught. “I’ve been thinking about you this week. I was waiting a few days… I didn’t want to disturb you… if you were busy… I know London must be busy…”
I could have said so much. So fucking much. I could have said that I’d been thinking about her for years, but didn’t want to disturb her. I could have said that my life in London was rich and varied, and driven by everything I thought I’d want for my whole life, so damn much, but seeing her there, under lamplight, in pink satin with wide eyes was enough to drive me fucking crazy.
I could have said my cock was pulsing in my pants. Pulsing for her. Craving her. Craving to show her the maturity of tastes the last decade had grown in me that I was now so keen to share.
I could have said my heart was pulsing along with the rest of me. Still intoxicated by the girl who’d stolen my soul along with my heart back when we were teens staring up at the stars in her parents’ back yard and planning our universe.
“You’ll never disturb me,” I said. “There’s no time day or night I wouldn’t be pleased to hear your call. There’s a whole world to catch up on.”
Her nod was everything. “I know. Ten whole years. I have no idea where you’ll even start with yours. You must have so much cool stuff to tell me about.”
Right at that moment I didn’t give a shit for starting with mine. I didn’t want to share ten missing years, I wanted to start ten new ones.
So I opted for it. Diving right in, clearing the crap and starting over.
“You’re over with Robbie Sawyer?” I asked. “Permanently over?”
Her nod came again. “Totally over. We share Freddie… but not us… haven’t for years…”
“And I’m over with Naomi,” I said. “Free to catch up whenever you are. My timetable is governed by business, purely business. That and you wanting to talk.”
“I’m still in shock with all of this,” she whispered. “I’m still in shock that I ever saw you again. I thought you were gone. Truly gone. I’m struggling to believe I may have a chance to build bridges after all this time…”
“I thought you wanted me to be gone,” I said right back. “I thought your life had no place for me in it. Not after we… had our issues… and…”
“Broke up,” she finished for me. “It seems so crazy now that we ever did, you moved away so fast.” Her pause was instant. Her expression no doubt fearful of overstepping some imaginary boundary.
Conflictions. Regret. Thoughts slamming in.
So much between us. So much unsaid.
“You wanted Sawyer,” I said. “It was obvious you wanted Sawyer.”
“You wanted to chase the big dreams and all the technical brilliance in it and leave me on the sidelines. That seemed pretty obvious too.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry if it seemed like that.”
“It definitely seemed like that,” she said, and shook hers. “Shit, Ollie, it all felt so dramatic. The tension felt so real, so crazy real… I really thought we were drifting. That I was losing you… that really did feel so crazy real.”
“The way you looked at Sawyer seemed crazy real enough too.”
“You were a cocky shit those last few months,” she said. “I felt like a useless idiot every time you tried to talk me through your business plans, I really did.”
“I still am a cocky shit.” I felt the trademark smirk creeping up. “Only now I do a better job of keeping it in check. At least I hope so.”
“And I’m a damn load better at seeing Robbie Sawyer as the smarmy jackass he always was, even with that leather jacket going strong. I saw that pretty quick in the aftermath, if I’m honest, especially when I was pining sick for you.”
Her words hit me in the gut.
“You missed me? After we split?”
“Always.” Her eyes were piercing.
The handset felt like a lump in my hand, the buzz of the TV in the background fading to oblivion, and there was just my Maisie Moore, her expression brimming with the same desperation I was feeling deep. But mine had an edge to hers. Mine was raw. Filthy. Dirty.
Desperate to claim her and consume her and make her mine for good this time.
“I’m coming back soon,” I told her. “This time will be a proper catch up. I want to hear everything I’ve missed across the whole decade, every single thing.”
The sweet little bob of her head was beautiful. “A few weeks until you head back, you said, right?”
My sigh came out slow. “It has to be a few weeks, until I’ve finished up here.”
“But we can talk in the meantime, right? I want to hear everything about your decade too,” she said, and let out another perfectly bright smile. “I want to hear everything about you. The new you. The you I’ve missed.”
“You will,” I said. “Not all of it’s hearts and roses or white picket fences. I hope you like what you find.”
And there it was again. That simmer between us. The knowing.
We were back there. Body to body. Shivering. Hungry. Hungry for flesh on flesh.
“I want you so much,” she whispered, and I’d heard those words so many damned times so damned long ago.
“Show me,” I told her, and fuck, how my dick pulsed.
The nerves were so clear in her eyes. “I’m not the girl you knew… I’ve changed… so much of me has changed…”
“You’re the girl I want. Show me.” My voice was firm. Heavy.
Me. My voice was me.
“I need to be careful…” she said. “Freddie’s in bed…”
“Careful is fine,” I told her, and pulled my tie loose. “This is just the beginning.”
My fingers made light work of my top shirt buttons, and her screen was dithery as she changed position on the sofa.
“I can’t believe this is happening…” she breathed, as the picture steadied.
My cocksure smirk was at full brightness as I unbuckled my belt.
“You’ll believe it soon enough,” I said.
Chapter Thirteen
Maisie
It couldn’t be happening. My senses could hardly believe it as I shifted position on the sofa and cast my eyes at the closed living room door.
I hadn’t been this girl for so long – the girl drowning in urges, wanting to feel his touch, hear the filth coming from that dirty mouth of his. There hadn’t been a shiver of naughty butterflies between my legs, not like this… not for years…
Oh crap, was I nervous.
I was absolutely brimming with self-consciousness as I fixed my stare back on his and slipped my fingers inside my satin wrap.
“We’ve missed so fucking much,” he hissed, and my eyes ate him up as he picked open his shirt buttons.
“I haven’t done anything like this before…” I told him, knowing full well my cheeks must be ruby.
“Good,” he said. “All for me.”
The fierceness in his tone was enough to make me gas
p, my fingers slipping inside my knickers and circling my clit in tight little movements. I was wet. Wet enough that he could probably hear me.
“I’ve been thinking about you so much…” I repeated, but this time there was a dirtier edge to it.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me how you’ve been thinking about me.”
“Dirty thoughts…” I admitted. “Fantasies… I remember so much… about the things we did… the things we wanted…”
“I’ve been thinking plenty about you too,” he said, and my confidence sparked a little down deep. “I’ve been relying on old memory reruns for a fucking long time. So much of you, Maisie. So much I want to do to you.”
I could still barely believe it. My eyes were torn between screwing tight closed and losing myself in the crazy motions, or fixing on his for a lifetime.
He made the decision for me.
“Look at me,” he said, and I did. I stared hard at that screen and wished the distance was nothing. “I want to claim so much of you,” he growled. “I was a boy with treasure in my hands all those years ago, only I didn’t know how best to make that treasure whimper and fucking sparkle. I do now. Believe me, I do now.”
The burn was eating me up. The muscles in my belly were tightening along with my thighs, craving more.
“I want you to claim me…” I whispered. “I want you to make me dirty… really dirty… all for you…”
“You’re going to be so fucking dirty for me, Maisie Moore. You have no idea how dirty I’m going to make you… or how much you’re going to fucking beg for more of it…”
I was nodding. Nodding hard.
My breath was shallow and sharp, and I was lost. Lost to everything but him. Oliver Kent. The Oliver I’d wanted so much I couldn’t stop it, wouldn’t stop it, couldn’t imagine ever stopping it now the floodgates were opening.
His voice was so much stronger than all those years ago, even at a whisper. “Touch that horny little pussy and tell me you’re mine.”