Bad Guys

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  “Show me,” he asks.

  I nip his lip and grin into his eyes, rocking my hips over him until my rhythm starts to create a frenzy inside me, his wet mouth around my cold nipples erotic and hard to bear as I ride him, my breath almost robbed as I finally orgasm, taking him with me.

  When I open my eyes, our noses are touching and we’re breathing heavily against each other’s cheeks. We share a look and it goes without saying that we both feel this exact same thing: it’s real, it’s pure… it’s a kind of love that you don’t have to force. It’s effortless.

  Then I catch him staring at my breasts as I pull my sleeves back up.

  “What is it, Hartley?”

  “Getting to look at… and kiss Saskia Ivanova’s breasts… it will always be a little bit of a novelty, I’m afraid.”

  “I suppose I can live with that.”

  I kiss him sweetly before climbing off, pulling my knickers back into place. I take the wheel and reverse out of the lane carefully. It’s only when we get halfway down the road that I realise I still have one breast hanging out.

  Very late at night, I wake up dying for the loo. I crawl over the empty wrappers strewn all over the bed and pee in the nude, the cold toilet seat making me desperate to get back under the covers.

  I get back and swipe all the wrappers off the bed, chuckling as I go.

  We had an epic film marathon and ate a ton of junk, then fell asleep fat and happy.

  I spoon up behind him, run my fingers through his chest hair and down over his abdominals. Pushing my nose into his hair I smell his clean scent, his soft brown mane thick and wavy. He groans in his sleep as I press my body against his, pushing my knee between his legs. I’m warm again in seconds.

  “Saskia?” he asks, sounding groggy.

  “Yes, honey.”

  “Thank god it’s you.”

  “Bad dream, baby?”

  “I think so.”

  I hold him, kiss his shoulder blade, tug at his pubic hair and run my hand all over his chest.

  “Why did you make yourself like this?” I ask, gesturing at his new muscles.

  “Exercise helps me stay sane,” he says.

  “Not for me?”

  A chuckle catches in his throat. “Maybe a little.”

  “I’d love you soft, hard… whatever. It’s you I want.”

  “But you like this?” he asks, with some kind of grit in his voice, as I continue enjoying the hard ridges of his stomach.

  “Yes, I like it.”

  Adam rolls over in bed and grins with surprise when he sees me, as though he thought he might be still dreaming… now he realises he really isn’t, not anymore.

  “You alright, honey?” I reach out and ruffle his beautiful hair.

  “Never better, princess.” He crawls over me with his wild hair and saucers for eyes and whispers, “I love you, Saskia.”

  Then he takes his time loving me… and I take my time right back. I think I even come once, just from seeing him smile.

  I realise I love this man enough to change… maybe even enough to move on.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It’s Christmas Day evening and I’ve just driven up from London to Leeds. I woke up in my flat this morning feeling full of the joys, not because I’m spending the day with family or because I’ve got a massive tree in the corner. Not because I woke up to a pile of presents or any prospect whatsoever of a traditional Christmas – but because I get to see Adam again today. After I’ve been and done my duty as Chloe’s best friend, I’m driving over to his parents’ place, parking around the corner and picking him up to take him back to mine for the next week or so. That’s the plan and I can’t wait.

  I make it to Chloe’s rented house and she’s by the window, watching out for me. Within seconds, she’s in my car and we’re hugging hello. I see something in her eyes… I think Helen has something to do with it.

  “You okay?” I watch with concern as she puts her belt on, trying to be strong and smile and pretend everything is okay.

  “I’ll be better with some greasy grub in me,” she reassures, focusing her eyes out of the window and avoiding my interrogation.

  I know better than to push her; she will tell me the details eventually.

  Once upon a time, I’d spend Christmas with my brother Stefan at his house in Otley and we’d eat a massive fry-up breakfast in the morning, go to church and come back, graze on a sofa picnic for the rest of the day and then stuff our faces with sweets and chocolate after that. Stefan is the only one in my family who can drink me under the table. He’s my favourite sibling, but when he met his boyfriend Gerard and they moved up to Scotland, that was it. There were no invitations to Christmas after that. In a way, I don’t blame him. He deserves to be happy and he is afraid our parents will find out about his homosexual relationship and completely disown him. I know what that’s like and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

  Perhaps Adam and I will implement our own traditions once we become official. For all my blather, I do want something conventional one day – I always have – just with the right man.

  I’m wearing my only downtime outfit tonight, a pink tracksuit, but I do have a change of clothes in the back I’m planning to slip into once I get near Adam’s house. I’m pretty good at changing outfits on a backseat.

  Once inside McDonald’s, we order all the crap we can. Calories don’t exist today, neither does propriety. Chloe and I have seen one another at our worst. Granted, my worst was that time I got gastroenteritis and couldn’t leave the house for a week or two. Her worst was that time she almost slept with this really sleazy guy for money, but she got past that with a few pints of ice cream, a lot of crying and a loan from me that she’s yet to pay me back (what’s money between true friends?).

  We have the pick of seats and I chuckle to myself. We’d usually go to the branch in town but because she’s living out of the city centre now, we’ve come to one on the outskirts and it’s more than a little obvious that the staff in here were preparing to shut up shop before we arrived – likely having had no customers all day.

  I say nothing when Chloe presents her card to pay for our meals, even though it’s usually me who pays. It’s not my style to draw attention to people’s poverty, nor their sudden luck, but it’s not lost on me she seems to be going up in the world. Perhaps she finally sees she can be her own woman.

  Now we’re finally sat down with our junk food, and because it’s obvious she’s got something on her mind, I ask, “How was your mother?”

  She doesn’t mince her words. “She was in bed naked with this guy. The house was a mess and she got me a 3.99 necklace for Christmas.”

  “No, she didn’t.” How could she?

  Helen hasn’t seen her daughter for the past two Christmases at least.

  “She absolutely did.”

  That repulsive woman… Chloe ought to wash her hands already. If only she knew what I do.

  “Where are you staying?” Chloe asks, interested in my arrangements.

  “I’m going back to London tonight, just came to see you.” A lie. A big lie. I’m actually here to take my secret boyfriend back to mine.

  “That means a lot,” she says, and I know she really means it.

  I regard her quickly, lest she see the lie in my eyes. “I know.”

  “What’s new with you, anyway. You’ve been quiet lately.”

  I sigh and try to collect myself to deliver words that won’t arouse her suspicions. She is clever enough to smell a lie, but she trusts me and all I have to do is hold my nerve.

  “I’ve been offered a job in New York. I’ve been coming back and forth. It’s the same company, but they want to make it more permanent. That’s where I’ve been going when I, you know. I did a couple of projects but they want me to take on more.”

  “I think that’s absolutely brilliant.” She looks really happy for me. She’s a better friend than I am.

  “Yeah, but…” There’s Adam. God, there’s Adam… and I don
’t want to leave him.

  “What?” she asks.

  “It’s massive and there’s sort of…”

  “A guy?” she guesses, scarily accurate.

  Maybe I should admit that part… put her off the scent, just a little. If I lie outright, she may sense something sinister at work. This way, if I tell her a partial truth, she may not press me further.

  “Who is he?” she asks, sounding intrigued.

  “I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

  She looks even more interested. Fuck.

  “Is it someone we know?” she presses.

  “It’s complicated.”

  She frowns, perhaps worried I’m lying… or hiding something devious.

  “Do you love him?”

  “I think I do, which is inconvenient. I’ve never wanted any of that. You know? Never.”

  “Adam came over last night,” she blurts, and my insides start churning.

  “WHAT?” I gasp, failing to hide my surprise.

  He never mentioned this…

  Why didn’t he mention he was planning to see her?

  Oh my god, my heart is thudding in my chest.

  All that last week… the long nights of lovemaking… the promises… was it all meaningless? Is he a rat? Have I got it wrong?

  “The pub was empty so he went to Mum’s, maybe thinking we’d all be there. When he couldn’t find me, he tracked me down at home, carrying a bag of beer. We talked a bit. Then Cole rang so I took the call in the kitchen. When I came out, Adam was gone.”

  “Weird.” I start to cool down. Thank fuck nothing happened. Still, why was he there? “What did you two talk about?”

  She laughs, trying to downplay it. Shit, I see that look in her eye… she still has a little bit of a soft spot for him.

  “Not much, really. I think we talked more this morning,” she admits, and my appetite takes another hit – the food no longer appetising.

  “Huh?” I fear the worst… fear he’s been playing me… my face feels hot and I’m thinking all sorts.

  “Uh, I mean, he texted… not that he came back and we did anything.” She rabbits on. “No. Well, he texted me this morning and we sort of got into this convo about what might have been and it’s really clear from him he doesn’t see me like that, nor has he for many years. Kind of cruel, actually. He could’ve at least pretended he rubs one out over me now and again.”

  I shake my head. Why did he go round? Why? Hasn’t he done enough to screw with Chloe’s head? As someone who’s invested in him, I know exactly what it feels like to love him. He may seem like this cute, unassuming guy, but he’s more than he seems. He’s deep and dark and sexy.

  “Sometimes, I don’t get Adam,” I tell her, because honestly, why did he think it was a good idea to visit her on Christmas Eve? Any other day, yeah… but…

  “You seem to have an opinion about him you want to share,” she tells me, trying to get me to explain my shocked reaction.

  I stuff the burger in my mouth to give myself time to consider a response, then I come up with something.

  “At Allegra’s funeral, you know… Theo’s mum… me and Adam spoke. He was defending her even then, that bitch.”

  “Really?” she gasps.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my god.”

  “And he was all up in my face as though I was being a bitch just because I have your back.”

  This is all true… but this was before… all the rest happened between us.

  “Yeah, but you do have my back,” she exclaims.

  “Course I do, but I also know a fucking fake bitch when I meet one.”

  She stuffs her face with fries. “Go on.”

  “And he was all like giving it me this and that at the wake, even though during the service, the bitch was giving me and Marie evils. At a fucking funeral for someone she never even knew. Then, get this… Tom came onto the bitch, like he does, it’s Tom… you’d be worried if he didn’t… and you’ll never guess…”

  “I can’t guess! I don’t think I want to!” She bursts with laughter.

  “She said to him, and this is from Tom by the way, so take this with a pinch of salt, but she said to him that if he ever needed some good gear, she could get him the best, he need only say. She said she could hook him up with the most quality shit. She’d heard he likes the good stuff.”

  That part is true, I am afraid.

  “What the actual fuck, Saskia!”

  “Well it’s a little bit obvious, right. Her dad comes to another country and can’t get a loan to start his own business and has no money at all. He must have had to start somehow.” It’s actually a bit ordinary when you think about it.

  She doesn’t look impressed. “That woman is rotten to the core. What did Tom say?”

  “Thankfully he’s been in counselling and doesn’t do Class A anymore, just the odd bit of weed to take the edge off, but he’s even downgrading that. But I mean! Even Tom was shocked. He said the way she talked to him, it was like she was a different person to the one she puts on around Adam.”

  “What the fuck did he get himself involved in?”

  “Some muggy shit, my friend. Some muggy as shit fucking toss, that’s what.”

  She nervously stuffs her face with food and drink, in between talking. “Adam’s many things, but he doesn’t deserve that. She’s a Class A bitch of the highest order, but he no way got an inkling of that before he wed her, right?”

  Knowing what I know… “He must have done, Chlo. Come on. Even the nicest people turn Bridezilla before a wedding. He must have seen something of the person she really is but let me tell you, it’s apathy that’s the cardinal sin of this world babe, sitting back and doing jack shit while bitches like her get away with it.”

  She devours her food whilst I pick at mine, my appetite severely diminished by all this talk of Adam… all while I’m secretly fucking him.

  Chloe has to move on. She needs to, for her own sanity.

  “He treated you badly. He doesn’t deserve another moment of your time. You have to forget him.”

  “It’s not as easy as that, but I’m getting there,” she sighs.

  “I just can’t be doing with it,” I pretend.

  “But you’re still thinking about that guy. What’s his name, by the way?”

  “Nice try.” Have to give it to her, implementing her best tricks to try and get me to slip up.

  “Can’t you tell me anything?” she begs.

  I could tell her about the way he looks when he comes, the relief in his eyes and the fullness of his mouth as he moans, the way he holds me close because he needs us to share that intimacy when we exchange fluids. I could tell her about the way his eyelashes flutter, the beauty of his body when he’s lying on his back, relaxed. The gentle way he brushes my hair away from my forehead… the way he looks surprised whenever I kiss him. I bite my lip thinking of him.

  I settle for admitting, “Like, I don’t know, if there were such a thing as death by beautiful man, he’d be it.”

  “He sounds delicious. Like death by chocolate, only better. Your brand head is always on, huh?”

  “I could brand him, alright.”

  It becomes more than a little obvious that the employees around the corner are ready to see us walk right out of here, popping their heads out, annoyed we seem to be using their premises for such a jovial meeting on Christmas Day evening.

  “Cole is coming over in a couple of weeks,” she tells me suddenly.

  What a fucking relief. “That’s good.”

  “I do really miss him, but I’m just afraid I’ll fall so hard that I’ll leave everything behind for him. And what if it goes wrong? What if we can’t be faithful to each other like he wants?”

  Why, and I mean, why? “It’s up to you, whatever you want. But I really like the guy. He’s good for you.” Like really good… just be with him already.

  “I have to admit you’re right about that.” Thank fuck. “I know you’re right about
Adam, even Theo said that it’s just a stupid remnant of childhood I can’t let go of.”

  “You spoke to Theo about it?” I’m surprised. She always thought Theo was a weirdo. We all did. But I kind of like weirdoes, deep down, always have.

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuck, he’s hot. It’s not just me?” He is hot. I’m not using Theo to detract from Adam… much.

  She nods like a madwoman. “It’s like… not right. I place the blame directly at Lily’s feet. She turned him into this fucking irresistible bastard.”

  “I get hot just thinking about that play he was in. He’s been my secret actor crush for a few months now. First it was Henry Cavill, then Christian Bale… there’s been a few… Theo’s been up there a while now. It was those tight things he wore on stage. You could tell he was huge. I mean, like, fucking huge. He’s like come of age or something, like a fine cheese, and we’re all at the mercy of his masculinity. It’s not right he only wants her.”

  When Chloe responds enthusiastically, slamming her hand against the table and laughing, we realise the people behind the counter definitely want us out… their folded arms and scowls telling us to get the fuck back home so they can do the same.

  It’s funny and we laugh even louder.

  I leave most of my fries and a little burger behind, taking my drink and ice cream with me to the car, perching them in the cup holders. While the car is heating up, I finish my ice cream, now a little more relaxed and half-convinced Chloe is none the wiser about me and Adam. I’m either a very good liar or she just can’t picture it.

  “How big do you think he is?” she asks, and I’m assuming she’s on about bloody Theo.

  “Nine at least, maybe ten. Lily probably needs a big one though.”

  We throw ourselves about laughing. He’s more like eight inches in reality. About the same as Adam.

  “Lucky fucking bitch,” she says. “I saw Paul’s once, you know. He’s proper average. Six at best, I think. Maybe seven when he’s fully sober.”

  I almost spit out my coke. “Gross. Don’t know how she could have gone there. He never did it for me.” I suppose it’s no wonder she jumped for joy once Theo finally got his act together.