Shiver Sweet
Page 20
We hugged, left the lounge and split up in the hallway.
I raced upstairs for suitable attire. What to wear? Something sexy, something... I rummaged through my wardrobe flinging tops, leggings and bras about the room. Would wearing a few scraps of fabric be enough to keep viewers eyes on me, and off Nicola?
God, I couldn’t believe we were in such a position. Today’s events had certainly put a deep and hot crimp in my birthday, in fact it had blasted a crater that I’d never forget into my entire life.
I selected a white, belt-sized bandeau top and flesh-coloured panties. It was really no different to being ogled on the beach in a bikini, and that I could handle. Oh, what the heck! I had one chance to get this right. Time to cast my dignity aside. I had to go the extra mile to make the house Safe for Sarah’s return. I flung the bandeau onto the bed, discarding it.
The song ‘Dance like this,’ drifted upstairs from the kitchen. Oh, hell. That’s my cue!
What to do? What to do?
I scrambled over the bed. I had to create a distraction, fast.
CHAPTER 28
CLAIRE
“Make yourself comfortable,” Claire said, tottering in on a broken heel. Having lured Brian into her home on the pretence of loaning him her old, pay-as-you-go mobile phone, she sought an excuse to touch him.
“Thanks.”
Although dishevelled, he still looked amazing in his slick black suit with the top buttons of his white shirt undone. A strange ache filled her core at the thought of never again waking up to his dazzling good looks and warm body. There was no way he was going to leave this house until they’d gotten back together.
“I’m so confused,” he said, rubbing his chin. “It’s just too weird, that biblical thing... right?”
“Sure is. Although that’s not necessarily what it meant.” Claire winced and pointed around the room. “You know where everything is. TV, magazines... What’s mine is yours. Want anything to drink?”
He slipped his hands in his trouser pockets and remained standing. “Thanks for helping me out, Claire. I feel terrible that... but if you could just lend me your old mobile, that’s really all I need. I’d like to check up on, ummm... Sarah.”
And Christa! Claire clenched her teeth but tried to hide it behind a smile. She knew he wouldn’t be so rude as to phone Christa from Claire’s house, that’s why he was so desperate to leave. She had to stall him further. If he contacted her, he’d likely learn about the text she’d sent from his mobile, and that would blow her chance of reconciliation. “Sure. I’ll go look. I’m sure it’s in a drawer in my bedroom.” Care to join me? Claire turned on her stilettos just as her mobile rang. She pulled the phone out of her pocket, didn’t recognise the number, but answered it anyway when Brian frowned at her. “Hello?”
“Hi,” a man said. “Is this Claire?”
“Yeah. Who is this?”
“Marcus.”
“Marcus?” she repeated, trying to place the name.
“Brian’s mate. I can’t get hold of him. His sister gave me your number. Is he with you?”
Claire stared back at Brian, who must have heard her say his name. Damn.
“My mate Marcus?”
With reluctance, Claire handed the phone over.
“Hi.” Brian paused. “Rumours saying what? That Christa and I... Hell no. Listen, I don’t know who told you that but it’s all lies. I just found him. I didn’t put him there.”
Claire gulped. She pointed at the hall and mouthed, “I’ll er... go and find that old mobile.”
Brian flipped his thumb up. “Yeah, lost my phone.”
Claire raced into her bedroom and flung herself face down on the bed. Hell, her brother wasn’t lying about those malicious rumours. She smiled. Dale always had her back and it felt good. But if his methods didn’t work, she would think of a way to banish that bloody woman from Brian’s head even if she had to track down a witch to put a spell on him.
Knowing Brian, he’d want to speak to Christa more urgently than ever now, to forewarn her about the rumours. Claire had no intention of lending Brian her old mobile phone. No way! As soon as she handed him a phone, he’d be out of the front door like he had a rocket up his ass, to contact her in private.
She rolled over onto her back, reached out for her bottle of perfume from the side table and sprayed a generous cloud of its sweetness across her chest and in her hair. After a few moments of wasting time, banging wardrobe doors and drawers so Brian would believe she was searching for her mobile, she tottered out to fix herself a drink.
“So you’ll swing by and pick me up?” Brian said from the lounge, still chatting on the phone.
Claire halted in the hall outside the lounge. She slipped her stilettos off and pressed her back against the wall to eavesdrop.
“Great. It’s number ten. The one with a bay window. Er, no. We’ve split up.”
Claire’s eyes pricked with the threat of tears. The words ‘we’ve split up’ rumbled through her like a life-sucking thunderstorm.
“Their phone line’s not working. I tried at the station. I’m about to send Sarah a message on Facebook. If I’m not outside, just beep or knock for me, mate.”
Great! Just wonderful. Brian had been in Claire’s house for all of five minutes and was already arranging his escape. Frustrated, Claire lumbered along the hall and entered the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of whisky that she kept for when her brother needed a tipple – which was often – and poured a few burning gulps down her throat. Bloody Christa, Marcus, Sarah... who else was going to get in the way of her seducing her man? She carried two glasses and the bottle into the hall, then stopped in her tracks. Crap. A solid lump of dread collected around her heart.
Did Brian mention Facebook?
Sarah’s computer! Oh, shit.
It was on her bookshelf. Claire was meant to give it to Dale, who would hand it back to the guy who owned it - a subscriber to their website. His stupid wife had swapped it with Christa for a desktop without his knowledge, and the idiot had ticked the ‘keep me signed in on this computer’ box. It would not have been a problem if Christa had wiped the computer, but Sarah had mentioned that her mum hadn’t had time.
Blind panic flared like a torch inside her. She steamed into the lounge. “Brian, wait! Don’t use the...”
Too late.
Brian had found Sarah’s laptop and booted it up on the coffee table. From kneeling on the rug, he turned to Claire, his mouth agape, his face pale as chalk, ruining his handsome features.
She glimpsed the screen and immediately lost grip on a whisky glass. It thudded on the wooden floor breaking into shards. Oh, fuck. Yes, the guy was still signed in to their site. Could today get any worse?
“Have you seen this?” Brian glanced at the broken glass then back up at Claire.
“Wha-t?” Panic knotted her shoulders.
“This is Sarah’s laptop, right?” Brian didn’t seem to care that Claire had possession of it. No. His dilated eyes fixed back onto the screen which showed thumbnails of rooms in Christa’s house. Most rooms were empty, except one.
“It’s this stupid mouse pad. I must have clicked on this link by accident and...” He glanced at Claire, his eyes crinkled in confusion and shock. “I just don’t understand... I... Is this for real?” Brian’s voice wavered. “A screen popped up... thumbnails, cameras. Then I recognised the front of... it’s Christa’s house!”
Claire lurched forward then stopped. If she grabbed the laptop Brian would surely be suspicious. How should she play this?
Brian fiddled with a button on the laptop. “There’s no sound.”
Indeed there wasn’t.
Wiring up microphones was something Dale said the guys had been organising. It would be a big job, but would heighten the viewing experience, gain them more subscribers, as well as give the guys a heads up on the plans of those being filmed. Until then, Claire was the ears who gathered gossip and passed it on, by either befriending the stars of the show
in the flesh, or on social networking sites.
Brian clicked on the bathroom thumbnail. Its border was flashing red, indicating a popular feed. Instantly, the bathroom enlarged. “Bloody hell! Is that Christa in the...?”
“C-Christa?”
He pointed at the screen. “It’s hard to miss. Look.”
Claire leaned over Brian’s shoulder and stared. Her eyes widened in shock, not only because the website that earned her coin was five inches from her lover’s nose, but because her rival Christa filled the screen; dancing in suggestive motions in the shower as though slithering her body to a beat. “Goodness! I-I don’t know what it is.” Claire unscrewed the whisky bottle and swallowed a huge gulp.
Brian swivelled his head Claire’s way and furrowed his eyebrows. “Why the hell is Christa showering on the internet?” He bowed his head and rubbed his eyes.
Claire flexed her fingers, moved to touch Brian’s shoulder, then thought better of it and pulled away. “Perhaps you don’t know her as well as you thought.” She winced. Oh, how the hell do I get out of this?
“I can’t believe it!” In a fluster, his eyes roamed the screen. “Is this live?” He nodded and pointed at words at the top corner. “Yes. Live feed.”
“Perhaps she does it to unwind,” Claire suggested, trying to think of what a person who was not involved in the running of the website would say.
Brian’s horrified eyes met Claire’s. “You mean... she knows she’s being filmed? Surely not. How could you even think that?”
“Cool it.” She raised a palm. “Look, I’m as shocked as you are.”
“She’s topless! And her pants look painted on.”
Claire winced and fidgeted behind him. She bit her lip so hard it hurt. “What are you going to do?”
Brian eyed the laptop, then Claire, in a pointed way. “I can’t let this continue.”
Claire’s anxiety rocketed to a full-blown ten. She downed more whisky and slammed the bottle on the coffee table. Brian could not be allowed to breathe a word of this to anyone. “How well do you really know her?”
“Well enough to know this isn’t like her.”
“Maybe this is the real her. She’s not who you think she is.” Claire gnawed the inside of her cheek, working out how to play this down so Brian would forget it. “Look, don’t judge her too harshly. I mean, she’s only taking a shower. She’s not even fully naked.”
“That’s about as close as you can get.”
No doubt about it, this was the stuff that kept subscribers coming back for more; a sexy woman soaping herself and dancing in the shower. The guys running the website would be doing a happy dance. But moving so provocatively wasn’t something Claire had seen Christa do before. Anytime Claire had watched Christa dance in the office, she resembled a wriggling caterpillar. “Perhaps you should keep this to yourself. I mean, it’s obviously something she wants to keep private or she’d have told you about it, right? You should switch the laptop off.”
“Private?” Brian cupped his chin and sat immersed in the footage. “I’d hardly call being on the internet private. God knows how many people are viewing this.”
“It’s disgusting that you’re watching this... her in my house.” Claire poured a shot of whisky and passed it to him, searching her brain for a road out. “Drink this.”
“I can’t believe she’d parade herself like this.” He drained the glass in one gulp. “And yesterday, if... if I’d known this was what she does in her spare time then I’d not have... Think I dodged a bullet there.” He slammed the empty glass on the table.
“Sure did.” Claire had already discerned that something happened between the two of them last night. This confirmed it, and reduced her stomach to a free-spinning barrel of sickness.
“Why would she do this? She’s got a child for Christ’s sake.”
She stared blankly for a moment, suddenly fighting the urge to both laugh and cry. Finally, after all this time, she’d unearthed the one thing that would turn Brian off Christa. It should have been a hallelujah moment, but instead, it could get Brian killed and land the whole lot of them in jail. If Dale knew Brian had seen this website he’d drive straight round and knock him unconscious whether Claire protested or not. Fear for Brian’s life and her own freedom polluted her mind. She had to find a way to keep Brian quiet. But how? “Well,” Claire winced and mumbled. “Women as cheap as that just aren’t worth the trouble.”
His voice stiffened. “What? You think she does this for money?”
“Either that or because she gets off on it.”
“Oh, Christ.”
“There are many ways to make cash online, but you wouldn’t catch me cheapening myself that way. Tart,” Claire scoffed, then pressed her hand to her lips. Regret rushed into her brain. Had she made things better or worse?
“I know Christa’s been strapped for cash lately... but this! It’s outrageous.”
“Poor Sarah. I wonder how she’d feel about it,” Claire said, hoping that Brian might keep this under wraps for her sake.
“She’d be mortified. Sarah, bless her, can never find out about this.”
Bingo.
He got to his feet and stood face to face with Claire. “Thanks.”
“What for?” God, she could stare into his gorgeous blue eyes for an eternity.
“For bringing the laptop here. Did you know what was on it?”
“Oh, I er...” Claire fumbled for words that wouldn’t make him suspicious of her. “Yes. Sort of. I wanted to show it to you, but...”
“I know. It’s been a heck of a day. Thanks.”
Claire bit her lip. Had she said the right thing?
“If Sarah had gotten hold of it she’d be devastated.” His face scrunched. “I’ll find out which sleaze bag owns this laptop. Christa will know. It’s second hand.”
Yeah, by accident. Claire stroked his arm then reached up to turn his face toward her. Ahr, you smell so good. “You deserve better than someone who flaunts themselves like that. Look what you’ve been through today, and who’s here looking after you? Me, that’s who.” This was a man stupefied in shock, broken, and she had to fix him.
“I know. You’ve been great, Claire. I really appreciate it. But I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”
“You’re great.” Brushing wayward hair out of her eyes, she stepped forward, reducing the space between them to a mere foot. “And we’re great together. I know how much you love Sarah, and perhaps you’re confused, but you don’t need to be with Christa to have Sarah in your life.”
“I know that. That’s not what it’s about.” He recoiled from her touch, his eyes dark, tortured and guarded.
“I’d give up everything to be with you,” Claire said, gesturing to the website. She gulped, instantly realising what horrors could have slipped out. She gently touched his hand. “You’ve had such a rough day. I can make you feel better.”
“Claire... I... the thing is...” He glanced down at the laptop, a thoughtful, faraway look in his eyes.
Let me soothe you. “I know how much you want your own family. I can give that to you.” She looked longingly at him, then flattened her palm on his partly open shirt and ran her hand down the rest of the buttons.
He glanced down. “Claire. What are you doing?”
“I know girls like Christa, scratch the surface and all kinds of horrors pop up. Forget about her. I’m here for you. I can take care of you, and I know what you need.” Her eyes drifted to his lips, desperate to kiss them. The invisible line connecting them started twisting back together, hard as a whipcord.
Brian captured the left side of her jaw in his hand. He narrowed his eyes, gazing as though weighing up his options. “No. I’m sorry, but-“
“Hush.” Claire pushed up on tiptoes and crushed her lips onto his.
Brian flinched. “Whoa!”
Claire slithered a hand around his neck and held him in place. She kissed him again, trying to prise his lips apart with her tongue.
“The hell it isn’t.” She pulled his head down again and kissed him. “I want you. Now,” she whispered into his mouth, then tugged his shirt out of his trousers. While Brian stood rigid, she kissed his neck, trailing her lips right down to where the open buttons exposed a few hairs on his chest. Then, noticing he’d scrunched his eyes closed, clearly fighting against loving her touch, she slowly ran her fingernails up and down his back, just how he liked it.
His chest heaved beneath her lips and he put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t, Claire. We can’t.”
Claire rubbed a light hand over his groin and then moved up to kiss him on the mouth.
Abruptly, Brian’s demeanor changed. Eyes glinting, he wrapped his hand around Claire’s waist, pulling her hips against his thighs. They deepened the kiss, tongues twirling in a passionate dance.
All the pain in her heart fizzled away. She had him!
Brian moved his hands down her back. He hitched her skirt up above her hips, exposing her panties, and cupped her bottom. He lifted Claire up. “Put your legs around my waist.” Gladly, she did, and then he carried her across the room to the back wall.
Sandwiched between Brian and the wall at the side of the fireplace, Claire, riotously happy, let her lips melt around his. A soft, low moan escaped her throat as she writhed under his touch. God, it felt soooo incredibly good to be in his arms and Claire ached to have his fullness inside her.
Her spine tingled, every follicle on her body stood to attention as Brian moved his lips south, nibbling and kissing his way down her throat to her cleavage. Lost in the tickly shiver from his touch, totally vulnerable to him, Claire’s dark world and all its spinning shit fell away.
Only their frantic breath disturbed the silence. Hot and sweet anticipation spiralled through her body and pooled between her open thighs. She pressed her sex hard against the rise in his trousers, tipped her head back against the wall and groaned while he nuzzled her breasts. If he didn’t rip her panties off and enter her this minute, she’d surely burst. “I love you, Brian.”