by Sofia Grey
He grazed his teeth down the edge of my neck and I wailed, my fists curling round the pillow, the headboard creaking with every thrust. His grip tightened on my hip, and he dropped his other hand to flick my swollen clit. The sensations multiplied and heightened. My entire body convulsed, milking him dry.
Christ. That had been the best orgasm ever. It was fucking amazing.
Danny flopped onto the bed beside me and took care of the condom. I rolled over and stretched like a cat, feeling all my muscles groaning in the nicest possible way. Danny and me. Who would have thought it? I dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “Fancy sharing a bath, lover boy?”
He gazed at me. I didn’t like the doubt that flooded his eyes. Was he having second thoughts?
“I can’t.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’ve, uh, got some invoices I need to check.”
What the fuck? We’d just shared a mind-bendingly great shag, and now I was being abandoned for some fucking invoices?
“You’re joking?” I’d give him one chance to change his mind.
“I’m sorry.” He wouldn’t look at me.
I stared in disbelief as he rapidly dressed. He raced out of my bedroom as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his ankles. Well, didn’t that tell me everything I needed to know?
He saw me as a mistake.
I ran myself a bath, dressed in my shortest skirt and highest heels, called two of my drinking buddies, and went out. Getting hammered seemed like the solution.
4.2 Anita
It was late when Jon pulled up outside my house, and turned off the car engine. Music played softly in the background and I gazed at him, unwilling to break the spell.
He unfastened his seat belt and turned toward me. I unclipped my own belt, and took his outstretched hands, skin to skin, feeling his warmth flowing through me again.
“I wondered.” His voice sounded diffident. “I’m racing on Sunday at Oulton Park, not far from here. Do you fancy coming to watch?”
I sensed this was important to him, and I squeezed his fingers. “I’d love to. What time should I be there?”
A grin of relief broke across his face. “You will? Great. I’m not on until three thirty, but I’ll be tied up most of the day. If you can get there about two thirty, we can catch up before the start.”
“Half past two, Oulton Park. But how do I get in? Do I need to buy a ticket or something?”
“No. Follow signs for the competitors’ enclosure and ask for Tom McNally, my manager and chief engineer. Everyone knows Tom. I’ll make sure they’re expecting you at the gate.”
“I look forward to it.”
With beautiful tenderness, he reached out and smoothed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. It was as though he’d put a spell on me. I was transfixed. He stroked his fingers down my cheek and paused at my mouth, resting on my lips. My pulse boomed in my ears, so loud, he must have been able to hear it.
“I need to kiss you.” Jon’s voice was husky.
I couldn’t drag my eyes away from his lips. “Yes,” I whispered. What was I doing? Would he stop at just a kiss? Common sense reasserted itself. We sat in a car outside my home, and he’d been a perfect gentleman so far.
He leaned into me, and brushed his lips over mine. Soft and gentle, he took his time and I relaxed into him. Jon made me feel safe, I realized with a sense of wonder.
It was odd, but I had that prickly back-of-the-neck feeling that convinced me we were being watched, and I pulled back, to Jon’s visible disappointment. The moment of separation felt intense, for a second I was dizzy, but as I looked outside, I knew I’d been right. There, in our darkened kitchen, I saw a face staring out at us, illuminated by the street lights.
“Danny.”
I looked back at Jon and his face darkened. He followed my gaze and stared at the house. “Is he watching us? Who the fuck is it?”
It felt as awkward as if Danny had crept in the car to watch us. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Despite the knowledge Danny was there, I claimed a final kiss. “I’ll see you on Sunday,” I whispered, unwilling to leave him.
As I dithered over leaving, a noisy taxi rumbled up behind us. With much door banging, Colette staggered out of it and gazed at Jon’s car.
I groaned. “It’s like Piccadilly bloody Circus here tonight.” Before I could change my mind, I scrambled out of Jon’s car.
Colette stood a few yards away, swaying gently as she held on to a lamppost.
“Is that him?”
Her voice slurred as she spoke, ringing out loudly. I’d never seen her like this before. It would have to happen tonight, while I had Jon here. I nodded.
“Yes, that’s Jon.” I wanted him to drive away, but he climbed out too.
Colette’s eyes lit up, and she lurched forward, hands held out. “I’m Colette, and I know you’re Jon. Don’t you think she looks hot tonight?” She beamed at him. He caught her hands as she teetered across the pavement.
“Bloody heels,” she muttered, and then grinned up at Jon again. “Well, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, with a smile to me. “She looks hot.”
“We live here.” Colette swung an arm wildly toward the house. “Would you like to come in for a little drink? Don’t s’pose Anita asked you, her manners are terrible if you’re not a horse. But,” she winked brightly at the bemused-looking Jon, “she doesn’t ever bring any men back here.”
Colette froze, her gaze fixed on the house. She had to have seen Danny in the window. “That bloody, pompous prick, watching me.”
Her voice roared out, shocking in the quiet street. It startled me—heaven knew what poor Jon thought. The next minute she stomped up the path, muttering to herself.
I took Jon’s hands and squeezed them tight. “I want to thank you for tonight. I had the most amazing time, it was just wonderful.” I gave him another kiss and then stepped back. “Go.” I painted a confident smile on my face, and made a shooing motion with my hands. “Go now. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
He looked back at the madhouse. Colette was screeching at Danny, her voice audible from the street.
“Are you okay? I mean to stay here? Who are these people?”
“My housemates. And it’s not normally like this, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry—just go.”
“Should I come in for a minute?” Jon looked anxious and no wonder, it sounded as though they were murdering each other.
I tried to laugh, pretending to sound unconcerned. “Go home, Jon. I’ll go in now, and I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“Promise?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I blew him a kiss and went in to see what was happening with Danny and Colette.
The kitchen lights were all blazing. Colette slumped at one end of the kitchen table while Danny, sporting a red handprint on his cheek, appeared to be making coffee. I crouched next to Colette and slipped my arm around her shoulders.
“Colette, honey, are you okay?”
“Watching me,” she mumbled.
Danny pushed a mug of coffee toward her. “Colette,” he spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Drink your coffee and go to bed.”
She lifted her head to gaze intently at him. “You finish your fucking invoices then? Plenty of time to watch for me coming home.”
I broke in, before another row could erupt. “No honey, he was watching me and Jon, before you arrived.” I looked at Danny. “What the hell were you doing? It made me feel really uncomfortable.”
“I was making sure you were okay. Like I always do.”
Before I could say anything else, Colette started sobbing. “You weren’t waiting for me after all.”
I’d no idea what was going on, especially when Danny sat down and pulled her into his lap. After some initial resistance, she gave in and wound her arms around his neck, to weep onto his chest.
He looked coldly at me. “See what you’ve done now?”
What I’d done? What had I done? I escaped to my room. The entire
world had gone mad.
Chapter 5
5.1 Jon
I wasn’t needed at the racetrack until Saturday afternoon, so I lay in bed later than usual, thinking about Anita and her crazy housemates.
When that bloke was staring at us, for a second I thought she’d called me Danny, but then I realized she was looking outside. That had been creepy. She said he was her housemate. And the drunken pixie, Colette. She had a temper on her, judging by all the yelling that ensued.
Kissing Anita had been a revelation. She drove everything else out of my head. For a blissfully short period, I didn’t think about Susie, or wonder what her next demand would be, and how much it would cost.
The impending divorce was always at the back of my mind, and it nagged at me that I still couldn’t pinpoint the moment our marriage had floundered. I knew the headlines—Susie’s casual infidelities—but why remained a mystery. Was she unhappy with me? Or bored? If I started dating, would the same happen again? Would Anita be as faithless as my wife? No, I didn’t believe that for a minute.
I wandered around the house, getting on my mother’s nerves and in the way of her excellent housekeeper, Mrs. Pearce. My great mood had vanished and been replaced by a low-level anxiety. As I stared out the kitchen window, I admitted the problem to myself. I wanted to see Anita again, today. I tried to rationalize it. I wanted to be sure that she was okay after leaving her to that chaotic scene last night. I also wanted to hold her again. It had been too long since I’d felt anything like this physical connection, if ever.
I knew I’d meet her on Sunday, but I wanted to see her somewhere quiet, some place I could ask her about Danny. I knew we’d only been on one date, but I needed to know if he was a part of her life before I got any more involved.
Taking a deep breath, I dug out her phone number and dialed. A gruff male voice answered.
“Hi, I was looking for Anita.”
There was a pause. “Who is it?”
“Tell her it’s Jon.”
“You’ve got the wrong number, there’s no Anita here.”
The rapid reply caught me unaware. That didn’t make sense—he’d already asked who I was.
I checked the number with him; he confirmed that I’d dialed the number she’d written down, and then he hung up.
What the fuck? Did she not want to speak to me? Shit. He must be her boyfriend after all. I sat down, and replayed our conversations in my head.
My mother walked into the kitchen, saw my face, and sighed. “Jon darling, why don’t you go out? I understand you’re probably anxious about the race this weekend, but you’re not going to do your best if you keep winding yourself up. Go and have a wander round the shops or something.”
What a brilliant idea, why didn’t I think of that?
I lurked for ages in the bookshop, watching assistants come and go, and then asked the woman behind the counter if Anita was working.
“She doesn’t usually work Saturdays. Sorry. Can anyone else help?”
I contemplated going back to her house, but the prospect of seeing either the drunken pixie or the potential boyfriend deterred me. So where else might she be?
Of course, it was obvious really. She’d be at the stables.
****
To my frustration and disappointment, she didn’t appear to be at the stables either. I could see plenty of activity, a group lesson in progress and children of all ages hanging around, but no Anita. I found an office full of assorted tack, hats, and jackets, but no people. There were three stable blocks. I’d start looking for Sam, although it was entirely possible she’d gone out riding. It was certainly a lovely day for it.
As I left the office, a young girl bumped into me on her way in. She carried a pile of blankets—they completely blocked her vision—and as they tumbled to the floor she cursed, and tried to grab them.
“Here, let me help.” We picked them up, and as she thanked me profusely, we stacked them on a shelf, and then she stared at me.
“You’re Jonathan Craigowan!”
There was no point trying to deny it. I nodded and smiled back. Perhaps she might know where I could find Anita. As I opened my mouth to ask, she spoke again, excited.
“Are you looking for Anita? You were here last week. I remember you asking about Sam.”
“Yes. Is she here today?”
“Well yes, but not at the moment. She had lessons, but then she went to the feed merchant. She’ll be back later; do you want to leave a message?”
Okay, so she wasn’t with the maybe boyfriend, and that was a good start. “What time do you think she’ll be back?”
In reply, the girl turned to the desk and looked at a huge diary. She ran a grubby finger along a list of names before looking up with a smile. “She has lessons again this afternoon, but should be finished at five. Then she’s taking Sam out, so I’d say if you wanted to catch her, your best bet would be between six and seven.”
I thought rapidly. I’d be at the racetrack all afternoon, but I could get back here by seven. I smiled at the girl and held out my hand to her. “Thanks, I’ll come back at seven. Will you tell her I was looking for her?”
She shook my hand, blushing under a coating of fine dust. “Definitely. She’ll be so excited.”
At last. I might finally get to speak to Anita today. She was certainly elusive. I thanked the girl and set off for Oulton Park whistling softly, a new spring in my step.
5.2 Anita
It had been another busy day at the stables. After running a series of errands for Clare, it was a rush to get all the afternoon’s lessons started on schedule, then getting each class finished in time to ready myself for the next group. It was exhausting, but it left me no time to think about Jon. I’d lain awake most of the night, thinking about him—about us—and worrying what he thought of me, especially after Colette and Danny’s behavior last night.
I waved off my last class of the day, and then sank into a seat in the little office, and pushed the booking diary closed. I could have happily put my head on the desk and slept.
I took a few moments to think some more about Jon. When he looked at me, what did he see? An innocent lamb? Or damaged goods? I pushed that idea away, with some effort. I’d spent most of the last two years drifting along, scared of making plans, but somewhere over the recent months, I’d begun to relax.
Did I want to go back to University one day? Finish my degree? Or was I happy to stay working in the bookshop forever?
It suited me right now. Baby steps.
The quiet was interrupted by Shelley. She came dashing up, hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. Sensibly, she’d waited until the last pupil had left, but now she perched on the edge of the desk, obviously bursting to tell me something.
At that moment, Clare walked in, and sank into the other chair with a huge sigh. “I’m knackered,” she announced, while opening a can of lemonade. She took a long drink. “God, that’s better, although I wish I had some vodka in it.” She glanced at Shelley, and held up a finger to pause her. “Hang on a minute, Shell.”
Turning to me, she took another swig from her can before speaking. “Anita, what the hell is the matter with Danny today? He has the worst mood I’ve seen in years, and that’s saying something.”
Shelley broke into the conversation. “Sorry, Clare, I have to tell Anita. He was here again. Looking for you.”
“He?”
“Jonathan Craigowan,” she squeaked, her cheeks bright pink.
I sat up straight, only vaguely aware of Clare’s interest. “Here? Today?”
Shelley nodded. “He’s coming back later. I told him you’d be free at seven.”
“Seven? It’s six o’clock now.”
Clare looked puzzled. “Hang on. I thought you saw him last night? Hells teeth, I completely forgot to ask you how it went.” She leaned forward. “So come on then, how was it? And my guess is, it must have been good if he’s already coming back to see you.”
My cheeks burn
ed and I tried to play down my excitement. “I had a wonderful evening. He took me to some big, posh restaurant somewhere out toward Cranage, I wasn’t really paying attention where.” I shrugged, and smiled at their rapt expressions. “And yeah. We had dinner.” And kissed, but I wasn’t sharing that.
I remembered the strange events at home and frowned. “But Danny acted really weird. He was horrid to me when he found out I was seeing Jon. And then when we came back, as Jon was saying goodnight, I saw Danny watching us from the kitchen window.”
Clare paused for a moment, her brow furrowed, then swung into action. “Right. Anita, you go and exercise Sam. Shell and I will sort out his bed and feed. When Jon arrives, I’ll send him out back to find you. I left the practice jumps out for you, by the way.”
“What about Danny? Do you know where he is?”
“Right here,” said a voice from the doorway. He scowled at me. “Where did you expect me to be?”
“Go on,” said Clare. “Danny and I need to have a little chat.”
Shelley looked relieved to escape, and so was I. When I led Sam past the office, just a few minutes later, they were already yelling at each other.
I started working Sam, warming him up for some serious exercise. He felt lively tonight, and I had to concentrate. Round the arena we trotted, then cantered. I waited patiently for the moment in which we’d click and start working together.
After tossing his head for a while and shying at the slightest distraction, he dropped his head, and began listening to all my signals. “Good boy.” I patted the side of his neck and cantered a few more figure eights.
Of all the horses I’d ever ridden, Sam had the most potential. It took only the tiniest hand or leg movement, a slight shift in my weight distribution in the saddle, and he would respond. Showjumping would only ever be a hobby for me. Without sponsorship, it was impossible to get into the big competitions, but there was still a long way I could go with the right horse.