Bad Guys

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  He searches my face and looks tormented as he absorbs my confession. “I wish you didn’t know this pain. That I could take it away.”

  I kiss his hand. “It means I’m alive, that I feel. I need pain, Adam. Now you know why. I need to know I live. That I’m not numb. I need a lover like you, so badly. I’ve waited forever for someone like you. Someone who makes me feel truly alive.”

  He gulps and looks like he might cry. My soppy Adam. Then he straightens his face out again.

  “Susan will try to destroy us if she finds out,” he whispers, “but I can deal with her, only if I don’t have any complications. People will need to believe I’m still hung up on her or they will be asking why I’m not moving on.”

  I nod, hating what he’s saying, but knowing it must be done.

  “There’s this beautiful castle hotel I know in Kent. I used to go with my parents. It’s very old, very beautiful. We used to go biking around there. If, in six months, this fire between us is still burning, I want to meet you there and be with you for a few nights. And if one of us doesn’t show, that’s okay. Maybe it’s not meant to be. But if it is, we’ll take things from there. And I promise, if what I’m feeling right now sticks, there will only be you and nobody else. I promise.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and roll on top of him, kissing his mouth. “I promise, too.”

  “If we’re going to do this, we have to be sure, Saskia. A lot of people could get hurt.”

  “I know.”

  His eyes search mine, looking for some reassurance, perhaps.

  Maybe this is mania. Our best friends got married yesterday and Adam’s marriage just ended. Maybe I’m just his rebound. Or he was just around on a night I felt lonely.

  “I don’t want you to go back to her,” I plead, “it would kill me. She’s bad for you. I hate that, Adam. I really hate it.”

  He folds me into his arms and legs. “I don’t think I’ll see her again for a long time. She’ll be ashamed she’s been found out. Her MO was making people feel sorry for her. I can’t anymore. Her lies are too big and she knows it. That lock-up… it was like the true nature of her was contained inside it… like if she has things, she can deal with the world, and I was just a thing she was trying to keep separate from her other things. And I know her endometriosis is horrific and she suffers, but I’ve suffered mentally. And I think her own mental suffering is to some extent worse than her endo. But she never treated me like someone she could trust, like you just did by telling me about Sasha and your parents. She never shared, ever. Or if she did share, it was a falsehood… like her dad refusing her money. When he was actually giving her thousands.”

  I grab his hair and beg, “I wouldn’t be able to take it, if you went back to her. It would kill me, Adam. If she said she’d turned over a new leaf, that she’d donated her ill-gotten gains to the poor and would willingly wear sackcloth for the rest of her life, even then… it would kill me. I don’t want you to go back to her. She doesn’t deserve a man like you.”

  I weep softly into his chest.

  “I know. I know,” he reassures me.

  He doesn’t know it… but he’s going to be torn over the next few months, especially if Susan makes things difficult and doesn’t leave his life right away. But there’s also Chloe, the person responsible for actually getting rid of Susan out of his life (hopefully for good).

  Chloe doesn’t deserve any of this.

  “And there’s Chloe,” I mumble, “she needs to realise it’s Cole, not you. I swear, I know her. She loves him. She’s just trying to wreck it because she thinks he’s too good for her.”

  “I get that.”

  “She needs a friend, Adam. Someone who can convince her, someone she will listen to, like you. We can’t be together until that’s sorted either, maybe not even then… maybe we’ll have to emigrate.”

  “Hush,” he says. “As I said, we just have to wait. If we’re meant to live side by side, it will happen, and together we’ll get through what may come. I promise I will always be on the end of a line for you. No matter what time of the day. I promise.”

  “Promise?” I ask, looking at him seriously.

  “Yes,” he says, “and now I’m going to go down on you. I need to wear the scent of you if I’m going to get through the day. Okay?”

  I lie back and open my legs. “You don’t even have to ask.”

  When he pokes his nose through my folds, my toes touching his shoulders, I hold his head to me and suck in air sharply, my body aching and my head bent backwards as he drives me wild.

  I’m his.

  I just decided.

  Chapter Twelve

  Six Months Later

  It’s Christmastime and I want to believe that magical things can happen at Christmas. Miracles, even. Maybe he’s going to tell me we can finally be together. Maybe he’ll tell me he loves me. Or maybe I’m just his rebound – his way of getting over Susan. I don’t know.

  It’s not without trepidation that I’m flying down the motorway towards the place he messaged me about a few days ago, Hever Castle. Apparently, it was once home to Anne Boleyn and is ancient and beautiful. Maybe he chose it because he wants me to become his ill-fated second wife, who knows? He said I wasn’t to tell him if I’m coming or not, just that he will be there and the room is booked for three nights. It’s the week before Christmas and I know he has no intention of spending any of the actual festive period with me. He’ll be with his mum and dad, keeping up the pretence of still being hung up on Susan – even though he could just tell people he’s choosing to remain single because he doesn’t want to jeopardise the divorce. But no, I’m not allowed to become a part of his life, at least not just yet.

  My trips to NYC are getting even more frequent and I’ve begged him to come out and be with me but he’s refused me twice now and it hurt, both times, but even more the second time he denied me. It hurts especially because I have the pick of men out there and have constantly turned them all down.

  Since Lily and Theo’s wedding in June, we have however been in constant contact. The morning after he got back home from being with me, he found Susan had cleared out of their house and left her keys on the table with a note: I’ll file irreconcilable differences. Keep the house.

  I warned him not to get complacent. She could have something up her sleeve. Remember the threat she gave me at Allegra’s funeral? She told me she’d get us all… one day. Maybe that’s the reason why he won’t come to NYC and see what life is like out there, because even in America, he doesn’t believe we’re out of her reach. He seems haunted when I talk to him on video chat… When there’s a noise in his house, he twitches and shudders. He had the locks changed just in case and even threw out anything she’d left behind, like old moisturiser or the strange smoothie maker he would never use… but she’s still there in the background, taunting and tormenting… reminding him he’s going to be a divorcee and that a failed marriage, even though it wasn’t his fault, is still a failure he could do without. I’ve tried to initiate phone sex and stuff like that many times but he doesn’t want to do that. He sends me text messages telling me he wanked off to thoughts of me that day… reminding me of our time together… but he’s terrified she’s got listening devices in that house, or something, I’m sure.

  He tells me he will sell the house soon after the divorce comes through but I’m not sure if the trauma of his marriage won’t follow him wherever he goes. I have to hope it doesn’t.

  Anyway, I’m not worrying about anything other than him right now. I’ve finished work for the year, having given myself this long weekend off and all next week and the week after, too. I booked this in ages ago and Gregory smarted, “Thought you didn’t do Christmas?” My reply was: “I don’t. I’m just fucking knackered and want to enjoy some R&R.” He gave me one of those all-knowing smiles that only a father of three daughters could deliver. He saw through me. Why else would I book such a long period of time off at Christmas? Unless I suddenly have som
eone special to share it with. I certainly haven’t told Adam about all my time off, but if things work out, maybe I will suggest we could spend time together outside of this castle, too.

  The Kent countryside is suddenly rushing at me as I take the A-roads through the lush green hills, my car radio blasting out grime and RnB, just whatever comes on from my playlist.

  Hever Castle comes into view and it’s a little bit breath-taking. I try to imagine what it would have been like for Anne, chuntering down the esplanade in a horse-drawn carriage, huge dress and pounding heart, desperate to be away from London. Well, I can empathise a little with the latter, though beneath my fur-lined coat, I’m wearing very little, it has to be said.

  I screech to a halt in the car park, my heart pounding. Where will he be?

  Having recently swapped my Golf for an Audi TT, I wonder if he’ll know this is my car. Or is he already in the room? It’s all so… suspect. So cloak and dagger. And Kent? This is probably the furthest place he could pick away from Leeds… that isn’t in Scotland. And at this time of year, unless you have a 4x4, you don’t want to be in snowy Scotland.

  I leave my car and throw the door shut, breathing in the crisp scent of ice and mist. It’s cold, early evening, the castle lit up, the countryside around it only dark blobs now. It must have once provided refuge for people lost or in trouble, a beacon in the darkness.

  I start to pull out my phone to find out where he is when I hear footsteps crossing the gravel from the other side of the car park. Looking up, I see his tall, slim figure heading towards me and I almost drop my phone, only just managing to pocket it before he gets to me.

  Adam throws his arms around me and kisses me open-mouthed, without shame or embarrassment or any of that. He holds me close and groans into our kiss, taking my hair in his hands.

  “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says, drinking in my face as he holds me close. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

  “So do you.”

  He’s gorgeous in a smart black coat with a blue polo-neck sweater beneath, matching his eyes. His cheeks are pink from the cold and his hair is cut back again, shorter like it used to be, just some curls on top.

  “Let’s get inside,” he says.

  “Okay.”

  He opens my boot and takes my luggage out, frowning when he feels the weight of it.

  “I packed for all eventualities.”

  “That’s cool,” he says, grinning.

  He walks across to a Vauxhall Astra and when he comes back carrying his own bag, I shake my head. “You have to get rid of that car, Adam.”

  “Oh, don’t worry I will, once I’ve got that fucking settlement in my account. Trust me.”

  It’s all a bit surreal as we check into the hotel like a real, verifiable, proper couple and all that. I notice he’s not wearing his wedding ring anymore, nor is he expecting me to pay. He hands over a card and grins confidently. Susan can’t track his finances anymore then, I’m assured.

  He carries our bags upstairs and my heart starts beating at a million miles an hour. Should I have dressed so scantily beneath my coat? Is he going to want to talk first? I don’t know.

  What does he expect of me?

  Am I just his fuck buddy?

  Why six months?

  I’m freaking out by the time he’s putting the key in the lock.

  Then as soon as we’re in the room, he has me pinned to the wall, his hands around my cheeks, kissing me with ravenous hunger, whispering, “Saskia… god… you came. Saskia.”

  I’m not even given chance to admire the room.

  He kisses my jawline and I can tell he wants to get to my throat but the high collar of my coat is in the way.

  “What’s under this coat?” he groans.

  “Me,” I whisper.

  “Let’s see.”

  He’s wearing a sexy smile, his eyes glazed with lust. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful man.

  “Wait,” I ask, his hand reaching for the zip on my coat.

  “What? What?” He looks panicked, like I’m going to say we’re not here for that.

  “I’m not wearing much.”

  He grins boldly. “Good. Even better if you’re wearing nothing.”

  I gulp. “Nothing?”

  He licks his lips. “Just want to get my tongue on your clit.”

  “Turn around, then.”

  “What?” he asks.

  “Turn around, Adam.”

  “Okay.”

  He turns around slowly, unsure perhaps, as I pull my arms out of the generous coat, keeping the zip done up.

  Under the coat, I unclip the suspender belt, then tug down my knickers. I also shake myself out of my bra. Within moments, all I’m standing in are my coat, stockings and heels. I put everything inside one of the deep pockets of my oversized coat and murmur, “You can turn around now.”

  He turns to see me looking remarkably the same as before but when I gesture at the zip, he grins wildly and nibbles his bottom lip.

  “What’s under here, Saskia?” he asks.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  The sound of the zip being pulled seems ridiculously loud as he tugs slowly, inching it down, his eyes focused intently on what he’s revealing. When he finds the gap between my breasts naked, his jaw falls open and he keeps pulling until revealing my stomach to be naked, then also my hips and groin.

  Something seems to break in him the moment he has the zip all the way down.

  “Take it off,” he says in a gravelly voice.

  I shake the coat off my shoulders at the same time as he shakes off his and also pulls his polo neck over his head.

  My eyes almost pop out of my head when I see his new muscles, so many of them. I gulp, shuddering. He’s a He-Man now. He’s been busy.

  He comes towards me in just his jet-black jeans, grabs my waist and my thigh, pulling it around him.

  “Tell me you love me,” he says.

  I blink a few times, then I tighten my arms around his neck, nuzzle my nose into his and murmur, “I love you.”

  “I love you,” he growls, picks me up and takes me to the four-poster bed.

  I scream the moment I’m down and his head is pressed immediately between my legs, his mouth surrounding my pussy, his tongue eagerly sipping and then sucking, devouring me.

  When he’s had enough of drinking from my vagina, he licks at my clit until I come, screaming and yelling, his hair bunched in my hands. He climbs over me, already unbuckling his jeans. I help him with the button and zipper, pushing down his jeans and boxers at the same time.

  Adam moves on top of me and growls when he breaches my entrance, my body swallowing him whole with one savage thrust, his cock balls deep inside me.

  “Yes,” I cry out, my head tossed back, ankles crossed behind his back. He moves into that position we like where he tucks his knees in either side of me and starts ramming me with both hands surrounding my tits, bucking his hips mercilessly into mine.

  “God, it’s always hairless, always,” he moans, “I can’t get enough. Wanna fuck you all weekend. Need you so much.”

  “Adam…”

  Within just a few minutes, my eyes are squeezed so tight shut, like I’m on the scariest coaster of my life and I’m about to fall off. I yank at my own hair and howl, shriek and die of pleasure when he spurts into me, my belly filled with his fire, his cock inordinately big and beautiful.

  I don’t ever want to leave his side.

  The room is toasty warm and cosy but he pulls back the covers and helps me crawl into bed. I lie on my back sighing and occasionally jumping with the aftershocks, my eyes unable to stay open, I’m floating on a cloud.

  I sense Adam looking down over me, his head propped on his elbow, his fingertips trailing up and down my chest, over my breasts and nipples, my ribs and then my stomach, navel, even my bald mound.

  He leans in and kisses me softly on the mouth, murmuring, “Are you recovered yet?”

  I
keep my eyes closed, but smile. “Why?”

  “Well, I didn’t book this room for sleeping.”

  I laugh and tuck myself under the blankets, trying to fend him off, rolling the other way.

  Suddenly I’m trying really hard not to cry.

  He spoons up behind me, kisses my nape and smells my hair, strokes my breasts and then tries to put his hand between my closed thighs.

  “Playing hard to get, princess?” he goads.

  “Is that why you brought me to a castle? To lock me in your tower?”

  “That’s most certainly why I brought you here.”

  “I see.”

  “Perhaps a new position?” he whispers against my ear, tugging my lobe between his teeth, his erection pressed between my buttocks.

  Every inch of my body is electrified by him, my hairs on end, and with every touch of his hands, I shake and can’t help but show him that I really do want him.

  And yet I feel the most emotional I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I’m struggling on the edge of something that could tear me apart. The euphoria wearing off, I feel overwhelmed… devastated.

  He tries for a long time to get me to become receptive and open my thighs but when I still don’t, he rolls me towards him and studies my face. He stares at me until the first tear falls from my eyes, then the second, the third. He looks away then. His lip wobbles and he can’t help it, his expression begins to reflect the pain I feel at being parted from him for so long.

  Today, I feel no different to how I felt the night we got together at the wedding. In fact, I feel more in love today than ever before. I want him in my life, to be more than just my lover. I want to start a life with him. I want to be married and have babies with him.

  “It will soon be over,” he murmurs, our eyes locked again. “I’m just protecting you. I love you.”

  “I don’t want to be apart from you.”

  “I know, darling. I don’t want that either.”

  He beseeches me with a look to let him make love to me and I move towards him, wrap my leg around his thigh and hold his cock to my vagina.