Trust Me (Beggar's Choice #2)

by Lily Morton

  “That’s because you don’t see yourself the way I do.”

  “And how’s that?”

  He looks at me wonderingly. “Mine!” he says slowly before bending his head and taking my lips in a slow, sensual glide. We kiss slowly at first but the kiss gathers heat quickly, until suddenly he groans and lifts me up with a flourish like Rhett Butler, pacing up the stairs while I squeal in surprise.

  We burst through the doors of the bedroom kissing deeply and uttering little moans and gasps. He stands still for a second taking my mouth in lush, open kisses before lowering me to stand. Then he kneels gracefully at my feet and my mouth falls open.

  Looking up at me he smirks as if he knows what I’m thinking and slides his hands up my thighs slowly until he’s clasping my hips in his big hands. Then he leans forward and nuzzles his face into my crotch, inhaling deeply. He lifts his head at my soft moan. “Soon,” he says huskily. “Soon I’ll do that. I want nothing more than for you to be my wife, but I need to know that I can make you happy first.”

  “You always make me happy Sid,” I say tearfully.

  “Not always.”

  “Even when I was unhappy I never regretted anything. The thought that you were somewhere in the world was always my happy thought.”

  He swallows hard and then straightens up, kissing me again until I’m panting and wild eyed. Then he proceeds to strip off my clothes item by item, planting kisses on each bit of my exposed skin, muttering little endearments and humming like it’s the first time that we’ve ever done this. When he’s finished he lowers me to the bed and then stares at me where I lie naked and gasping for breath. “I can smell you,” he says softly. “You’re so wet love.” I shake my head at him and hold out my arms and he smiles widely, his lips swollen and reddened, before he raises his hands over his neck and pulls off his polo shirt, the muscles in his abdomen turning and flexing. The clink of his belt and the sound of his buttons opening are unbearably loud in the silence and I twist, pressing my legs together feeling the wetness on my thighs.

  Then he’s naked and coming down to me, holding my head still with his big hands and kissing the life out of me. We lie like that for forever kissing wildly and wetly, our tongues tangling until in the end he is resting his full weight on me, the spattering of hair on his chest rubbing against my hard nipples. My legs are wrapped around his narrow waist and he’s grinding his cock into my pussy, rubbing my clit and making me wetter than I’ve ever been.

  “God you’re drenched,” he moans. “I can feel it all over me.” He kisses me before raising his head to take a panting breath. It’s obvious that his control is diminishing rapidly as he raises his hips and notches the mushroom head of his cock against my opening.

  “Yes,” I moan, tightening my thighs round him and drumming my feet on his backside. “Fuck me.”

  He pulls back. “I’m not fucking you now Nell.”

  “You jolly well are. Do it.”

  He chokes out a breathless laugh. “I was trying to be romantic but I see that your Sergeant Major sex persona is emerging, so maybe I’d better do as I’m told.”

  “Damn right. Atten-shun.” I choke off my laugh and groan instead as he slides slowly in, pushing through my wetness and splitting me until he’s up to the root. We both groan and pant and he nuzzles my ear.

  “I’m so sorry that I was rough earlier.”

  “Jesus, Sid you’re chatty tonight,” I pant, hardly able to concentrate now that he’s started up a sublime, pumping motion. He laughs but it comes out as more of a grunt.

  “I didn’t hurt you did I?” I grab his face focused now because I can see the seriousness and worry in it.

  “You did not,” I say sharply. “You did notice me coming my brains out didn’t you?” He smirks and rolls his hips making me moan and lose focus again for a second, but I grab for control because he needs to hear this. He needs to know that he can cut loose with me. “You didn’t hurt me Sid. Nothing that you do can shock me because I want you in every way that you come. I’ll always want you.”

  He smiles at me almost shyly, and then almost as if it’s beyond his control he thrusts slowly. “Yes,” he moans. “Yes, always,” and then there are no more words, just slow movements, the sounds of our bodies meeting and the music of our groans and gasps. However, this time it feels different because this time he lets me see him and I see all the love that he has for me and it’s humbling.

  Finally, it’s too much for both of us and he goes wild, speeding up and ramming into me, all caution gone. He rears back on his heels pulling one of my legs over until I’m on my side, my legs tightly closed, and I groan in surprised gratification because every stroke hits my clit dead on. I tighten inside and then it’s like an industrial firework going off in me as the tension coils and then I’m coming and coming, the sound of my choked scream underscored by Sid’s grunt and long drawn out moan, as he grabs my thigh hard enough to leave bruises, and I feel him shoot liquid warmth inside me.

  We lie for a second and then he gets up, going into the bathroom to return with a wet cloth which he presses to me, cleaning me. When he’s done he tosses the cloth back into the bathroom and then lopes back to the bed, lifting up the sheets and immediately drawing me close. We snuggle together.

  “I think I started falling for you almost as soon as I met you,” he says conversationally and I look up at him in surprise.

  “Really?”

  He nestles into me with a contented grunt. “You were so vital and warm. You just drew me to you, and then I got to know you and I fell deeper every time. I wanted you so much, wanted to look after you, wanted to fuck you.” He laughs and flinches as I pinch his side. “Everyone else saw it, how right we were for each other but I fought it so hard. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. It turned out the way that it was meant to. I was the same. No matter how much you distanced yourself I just couldn’t get you out of my head.”

  “I promise that I’ll always fight for us from now on.” I look up at him, his face fierce with that familiar look of utter determination.

  “Well when you give me the Face of Determination like that how can I doubt you?” I say lightly, touching the wrinkle between his eyes.

  “I’m going to make you so happy Nell,” he mutters, and I pull back to look at his face. His eyes are glowing.

  “How can you be so sure?” I ask teasingly, and he grins a foot wide grin.

  “Just trust me and we’ll be fine.”

  “I do,” I whisper. “I’ll trust you for always.”

  Epilogue

  Eight years later

  Sid

  The shout of a child outside wakes me with a start, and a second later I hear Charlie’s unmistakable tones. “What the fuck, granddad? Have you had enough of an afternoon nap? Did you make sure to take your teeth out?”

  “Fuck off!” I say peaceably, keeping my eyes closed and I hear him laugh. Then his weight settles next to me on the huge, purple velvet sofa that’s obscenely comfortable, and was the first thing that Nell insisted on putting in the studio that we built at the bottom of our garden. Of course the first thing that I insisted on doing was fucking her on it. We’d spent an entire rainy afternoon down here, naked and entangled and not coming up for air, and she’s always been convinced that we conceived our eldest boy Asa that day.

  On that thought I open my eyes. “Are Jude and Rye awake yet?” I ask cautiously, referencing our twin boys, and he laughs.

  “Yes, the demon spawn twins are awake and raring to go, as is your eldest. The only Hudsons in your family that are still asleep are you and Marnie, who is actually still a baby so there’s some excuse for it.”

  I laugh. “Don’t call the boys that.”

  “I won’t out loud. Nell will kill me.”

  “Not after last night. She might agree with you.”

  “Why?”

  “Jude stuffed three rolls of loo paper down the toilet, flushed the chain and flooded the downstairs bathroom, and Rye pain
ted the dog’s toenails.”

  “Fuck. What did Nell say?”

  “She wasn’t happy and neither was Mr Whizzle. Red is definitely not his colour.” We break into laughter and Charlie sighs.

  “Ah, the joys of family life. If only People Magazine could see us now. I never have a minute’s peace from tea party duties, and you’re reduced to hiding in your studio for afternoon naps. Sexy rock stars we ain’t.”

  “Speak for yourself. Anyway it was a power nap,” I protest. “Marnie’s teething and she kept us up all night. Just don’t fucking tell Nell. She’ll kill me if she knows that I’m sleeping out here rather than working.”

  “Got your nose to the grindstone has she? Another Emmy award winning song to write?”

  “No fucking way. She’s not bothered about that, she’d just have joined me in the nap if she knew.”

  He snorts and I smile. “When’s Cameron flying in?” he asks idly, flipping a guitar pick over his fingers.

  “Tomorrow. They’re working on his album, and then the following week she’s booked to work on Eminem’s new stuff.” Nell has become very sought after for her writing skills, and she’s written a ton of number one songs for different artists, as well as collaborating on numerous hits. I’d been more than prepared for her to take up her music career once the stuff with Cameron flew to number one. I’d even thought that she might reform her band and tour again, but to my surprise she’d refused. According to her the bit that she loved best was writing, and she wanted to help me renovate the house and write for other people without having the stress of being the focal point again.

  So that’s what we’d done, and for a few years our lives had been filled with music, plastering and sanding, wallpaper and paint samples and wild, abandoned fucking in every room of the house. I don’t think there’s a spare inch that we haven’t christened, and once the babies came along with first Asa, then Jude and Rye and finally my baby girl Marnie, then it became the home that I’d always wanted.

  We both love it here and I can’t see us ever moving to be honest. It’s bright and airy and full of the sounds of my family. There isn’t a day goes by that it isn’t full of children playing, and visitors sitting drinking coffee, snacking in our big kitchen or lounging on the deep sofas in the lounge and drinking wine as the members of Nell’s book club are prone to do. I should say book club in inverted commas because as its members include Mabe, Viv, Nell’s friend Mark and Alys, and cackling is all that can be heard, I don’t think reading is its focus.

  Despite the busyness of the house, every night Nell and I still escape to the roof upstairs when the kids are asleep, and share a glass of wine amongst the lights and just sit and chat about everything and anything.

  “Is Cameron staying here?” Charlie’s voice brings me back from my thoughts.

  I sigh. “Yes he fucking is again. Surely London has enough fucking hotels without him having to invade my house.”

  Charlie laughs. “You’ll never get over him fancying Nell will you?”

  “Fuck no!” I consider for a second. “Although he is actually growing on me a bit now.”

  “Really? It’s only been eight years. Fuck, Sid you’ve got a memory like an elephant.”

  “And a dick to match.” I sit up and stretch until my shoulders pop. “I don’t mind him really and he and Nell get on so well, I can’t help but like that.”

  “Sid, if the Yorkshire Ripper liked Nell you’d get on with him.”

  I smile. “Well she is pretty fucking likeable.”

  “She is that,” he muses quietly, smiling.

  “What?”

  “Just that I’m happy mate. A few years ago if you’d asked me where we’d be in ten years’ time I’d have had a pretty bleak view. I’d have still been fucking around not able to have what I really wanted, and you.” He pauses. “Ten years ago I was worried that there wasn’t going to be a you at all.”

  I punch him lightly on the shoulder. We don’t often talk about this now, and our relationship has eased into the one it should always have been - brothers and best mates, laughing, arguing and always and forever, piss taking. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly, and he reaches out and ruffles my hair like he used to do when we were kids, ignoring my indignant protest.

  “I know mate and not a day goes past when I’m not thankful to see you in this big, old house with a beautiful wife and a score of kids.”

  “Charlie, we’ve got four children, not a fucking herd. Nell says that you make her sound like some sort of rabbit.”

  He laughs loudly. “Hey it’s not my fault that you can’t keep your hands off your missus. You know the saying if you fuck like rabbits?”

  “You end up with bunnies.” As if on cue I hear a shout of ‘Maizy that’s naughty,’ followed by a child’s screech and a babble of protest.

  “That’s my cue,” he mutters at the sound of his daughter’s voice. He stands up. “You coming?”

  “In a minute,” I smile.

  Charlie heads out the door and a second later I hear a wild roar and the frantic giggles and screaming of children scattering in all directions followed by Mabe’s exasperated cry of ‘Charlie’. I smile and look out of the window catching sight of my wife talking to Mabe and cradling Marnie our youngest, while Jude hangs off her leg. Her hair is long now but still has crazy waves in it. At the moment it’s bundled back in a loose bun, and she isn’t wearing a scrap of makeup. She’s wearing old denim cut offs with a Beggar’s Choice t-shirt covered in paint and tied at her hip. Her toes are bare showing off their shocking pink pedicure, and I smile because she looks very far from the woman that the fashion press touts for her unique, funky dress, but I love it. At this point when she looks like this she’s all mine. The woman that I love with all my heart. My best friend, the person I tell everything to, and the one person that’s managed to fill the empty space inside me that I’d never managed to do even with twenty eight years of living wild and stupidly. I would do anything for her and the best part is that she would do that for me too.

  I never thought that being with a woman could be like this, where just the simplest things make me happy - catching sight of her when I haven’t seen her all day, sliding into bed with her at night, catching the scent of her perfume when I walk into a room or just sharing a joke that only we get because it’s been ours for years. Women had always been so disposable before but Nell taught me a lesson, and it’s one that I’ve learnt by heart, because I lost her once and I won’t ever do it again.

  Charlie emerges from a bush wearing what appears to be a pair of pants over his head and chasing a shrieking Asa and Rye and his own son Stan. Smiling I’m just about to join him, although not in the pant wearing, when my eye catches the large picture of Sam. It’s hanging on the brick wall of the studio surrounded by loads of candid pictures of friends and family.

  My photography hobby has slowly become more of an obsession, and once I had Nell and the kids came along, I’d gone mad trying to document every fucking second of our lives. However, on this wall, Sam’s really centre stage, the way that Nell says he liked to be in life. It’s not the only photo that we have of him as she has them dotted about all over the house and talks to the kids about him a lot, but I like this one the best. It’s captured him smiling wickedly against the backdrop of a sunny garden, a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth and he looks so much like Nell that it makes my heart hurt, and not for the first time I lift a finger and drag it down his face.

  “I think you’d like her life now,” I whisper. “She’s happy and loved so much, and I think that you’d be more than okay with that.”

  It has never escaped my notice for a minute that his death paved the way for Nell and me. She once confided in me that the night before the audition she’d had a dream where Sam had told her that she was late and she had to get up and get a move on. She’d taken this as a sign that she should go to the audition that day, when previously she’d almost decided not to. In a roundabout way his dyin
g led her to that audition room and the start of us, and for that I will never be able to thank him enough, but I do anyway and I never leave this room without saying it. “Thanks mate. Thank you for sending her to me, and thanks for saving me in the process.” Then I step out, closing the door softly behind me and head out into the sunshine and my real life.

  Thank You

  Thanks to my sister for reading the first draft again. She’s the only person that I trust to read my work before I press ‘publish’, and without fail she is both brutally honest and totally enthusiastic. Love you loads babe.

  Thanks to my husband and my boys for patiently putting up with my distraction and absentmindedness, and for getting used to having a conversation with the back of my head! Love you loads and loads.

  Thanks and lots of love to my mum and dad for having the boys at their house so much that it necessitated doing a second food shop midweek! I thought that I’d given birth to babies but obviously it was locusts!

  Lastly thanks to you the readers. Thank you for taking a chance on this book. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  I never knew until I wrote my first book how important reviews are. So, if you have time, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or GoodReads or any other review sites. I can promise you that I read every one, good or bad, and value all of them.

  I’d love to hear from you so if you want to say hello or have any questions, you can contact me on lilymorton1@outlook.com and I’ll do my best to get back to you.

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