by JD Nixon
And that was when Warren, straining under my weight and struggling to maintain his grasp on the ladder and his balance, made his unwise crack about me being rather hefty. I tried to accommodate him by wriggling around and distributing my weight more evenly. As soon as he felt more stable he told me he’d make his slow, careful way down the rungs with me draped over his shoulders. It seemed like a good plan to me, as it meant I’d soon be on solid ground again. I decided that Pei Pei could just look after herself from now on. I’d done what I could.
Creaking unpromisingly under our combined weight, the rung on which Warren stood, that in a fair world would have held up for just five more measly minutes, buckled and broke. So did the next one, and the next one, Warren dropping through the air so rapidly that I overbalanced on his shoulders and fell off him. I headed into a frightening free fall only to be pulled up sharply by the harness. That set off an uncontrollable pendulum effect, the harness cutting into my groin and squeezing my butt cheeks so hard they were pushed up and out. Warren slipped safely down the ladder by holding on to its sides, avoiding the need to tread on any other rung.
Twisting up high, I swung from one side of the studio to the other like an overgrown Peter Pan on steroids. I curved through the air past Trent’s desk, everyone in the room, including Pei Pei, tracking my trajectory, their heads moving in synchronicity. Though I’d ended up facing the opposite direction and couldn’t see where I was going, I could tell it was probably straight towards one of the cameras. Of course, I thought with resignation, because it would be too much to expect Lady Fate to allow me to land without causing maximum drama and cost.
The impact wasn’t good for either the camera or me, but I felt pretty sure I’d escaped without causing any damage to the expensive piece of equipment. What I hadn’t expected though, was for the impact to create a bounce-effect, causing me to swing back in the other direction. Brady clearly hadn’t expected it either, because he was in my way and I bowled him over with my feet from the momentum of my arc.
“Sorry,” I said over my shoulder, only half-regretful – he was a bit of a jerk.
Wondering if I’d stop swinging one day or if I’d now become a perpetual motion machine, I realised that when and if I ever did stop, I faced an intractable problem. The length of the harness’ supporting wire still meant that I’d be dangling well above the ground.
Warren and Chase came to my rescue for a second time. On my third pass across the room, Warren reached up and grabbed me by the ankle, jerking me to a halt. They hovered beneath me, linking hands. My toes brushed their shoulders.
“Unhook the harness from the wire and fall forward. We’ll catch you.”
“Are you crazy? I’ll fall flat on my face. I’ll break something.”
“Trust us,” said Chase.
What choice did I have? I debated with myself. Unless I wanted to spend the rest of my life literally hanging around this studio, I had no choice but to trust them. And besides, who could possibly say no to Mr October?
My hands shaking, I unhooked my harness. I fell towards the ground, my arms out in apprehension as I did. Between them they caught me, but as I fell, I accidently slung an arm around each of their necks. The force of me doing that caused them to stagger clumsily in Trent’s direction, propelling me forward until I slammed into him, toppling his chair backwards to the ground. I finally came to a stop straddling Trent’s neck, my skirt still hiked up well above my thighs.
He raised a well-groomed eyebrow, his nostrils crusty with dried blood. He held my eyes with a steady gaze. “This will certainly be a show to remember.”
Scrambling up, red-faced, I slumped against his desk, rather traumatised from the whole situation and fumbling with the harness. Warren and Chase assisted Trent to his feet, while the cameraman did the same for Brady. Eventually freed from the strangling straps, I pulled my skirt down to a more decorous length, ignoring its crumpled state. I rubbed my temples, feeling a major headache pressing in. This hadn’t been my finest moment working for the network. In fact, judging by the thunderstorms crossing Brady’s face as he glared over at me, I’d be lucky to be working here tomorrow.
A screeching above us reminded us that there was still wildlife on the loose in the studio.
“Get down here now, monkey,” ordered Warren in a big, booming voice. Pei Pei climbed down in a blink, jumped over to Julian to snatch the melon from his hand before settling herself on Warren’s shoulder, alternating between nibbling on the melon and nuzzling his neck.
“She’s never done that before with anyone,” said Julian, hurt in his eyes.
“Must be love at first sight,” said Trent. He glanced over to where Brady stood, glowering at me still and rubbing the back of his head where I’d crashed into him.
“She’s never acted so strangely before either. My Pei Pei’s usually very calm and well-behaved, even with sudden loud noises,” Julian added, his hurt tone increasing, but taking the time to shoot me a dirty look. “I just can’t understand it or explain it.”
That reminded me of the empty energy drink can, but I had no opportunity to retrieve it. I had to wait nervously until eventually everyone dispersed. That had taken a while as they stood around discussing the afternoon’s events over and over, until I could scream. Trent insisted on carrying on with the interview with the firemen, after a bit of non-urgent medical attention and some much-needed concealing makeup. Viv was taken away for a scan on her back, Seamus limped from the studio muttering about lawsuits, and Julian had to drag a recalcitrant, clingy Pei Pei away from Warren.
I sidled over to the can, planning on ditching it in the bin before anyone noticed. But it was no longer where I’d left it. Puzzled I looked up, straight into Brady’s cold, unfriendly eyes. He held up the can and waggled it from side to side in front of my face.
“Looking for this by any chance?”
Chapter 3
The rest of my day at work was miserable. As I always stayed until the show was a wrap, it was a long time to endure Brady’s hostile eyes on me. He couldn’t prove anything about the energy drink, but he clearly had weighty suspicions. Unless Trent needed me for something, I usually paid no attention to his live commentary, but spent the time going through possible stories for the next week’s shows. Pumping out five half-hour shows a week was no picnic and one show had barely finished before everyone was thinking about the next five. But tonight I found it hard to concentrate with those beady eyes on me and that irritating gum-masticating, smacking noise pounding into my head with every one of Brady’s languid chews.
When I finally arrived home, I bustled directly to my flat. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. I just wanted to eat, shower and settle down with a good book and a couple of glasses of wine.
It wasn’t to be. I opened the door to my flat to find Daniel and Niq sprawled across my lounge, feet up on my coffee table, laughing their heads off at something they were watching on TV.
“Guys,” I remonstrated, throwing my handbag on the dining table and kicking off my shoes.
Daniel checked his watch. “You’re a bit earlier than normal tonight.”
“I had to make a run for it. I was in trouble again.”
“With that guy Brady?”
“How’d you guess?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact you’ve been in trouble with him every second day since you started there.”
“Tell me about it.” I wanted to lie down on my lounge, so I threw myself across both of their laps, making them moan about my grinding weight. “What are you watching?”
Then I noticed the familiar music of the People’s Pulse theme song and groaned. They both laughed again.
“We recorded the show for you,” laughed Niq.
“You shouldn’t have. Really,” I said drily.
“We’ve watched it seven times now,” joined in Daniel. “It’s just so good!”
“Please, please tell me that nothing that happened to me today was on the sho
w tonight. I haven’t seen the final edit yet.”
“Let’s just say that there’s a new villain in the world,” smirked Daniel. “The Flying Buttocks of Disaster.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, my heart sinking.
I snatched the remote control from his hands and sped up the footage through the first few stories to the panel discussion. Except it hadn’t been presented as a panel discussion on animal rights. It was now a story about the chaos that ensued when animals went wild on TV. Seamus had been completely edited out. I clamped my hands over my face, barely daring to peek out between my fingers at the screen.
“Oh, my God. Mum and Dad watch this show!” I groaned again as I watched. “That damn Brady could have turned the camera off at least.”
My heart sank down into my shoes when the highlight of the segment was shown. It appeared to be footage from the camera into which I’d crashed. My butt, barely encased in those ridiculous panties, slowly swung towards the camera, its pace deliberately decelerated for maximum voyeuristic effect. My butt grew larger and larger as it came closer, finally filling the entire screen before it collided with the camera and the screen went fuzzy for a few seconds.
“Lucky you have a widescreen TV to show all that,” joked Daniel. I thumped him.
“How am I supposed to face everyone tomorrow?” I complained, flopping back on the lounge.
“It’s not your face everyone’s had to look at,” Niq laughed, earning him a thump as well.
My phone rang. I answered, realising I had thirteen messages blinking at me. I picked up reluctantly, knowing who it would be and whom all the messages were from.
“Tilly, it’s Mum,” she spluttered. “What . . . How . . . I mean . . . Tonight . . . Your father and I . . . Our neighbours watch that show!”
I waited for a moment, but she didn’t say any more. I believed that might have been the first time in my life I’d rendered my mother completely speechless. The only thing I could think of that would have the same effect on her was to tell her I was ‘involved’ with Heller, but as I still hadn’t worked up the courage yet to let her know, that was only a suspicion of mine. I wasn’t quite sure how she’d take that little nugget of information. I think, as with a lot of mothers, she liked to imagine I lived a life of innocent purity emulating the most saintly of nuns, while I waited for Mr Perfect to appear. I’d found Mr Perfect all right, but Mr Perfect had some major flaws that I could never tell my mother about.
She rang off, not becoming even the slightest bit more coherent during our brief conversation. My mobile phone immediately rang. It was my best friend, Dixie, and all I heard down the phone line were peals of laughter. She didn’t say a word, just laughed and laughed and laughed in my ear before beginning to choke on her own spit. She hung up without saying anything. She’s kind of empathetic like that.
Miserable, I went to my small kitchen, dismayed to find nothing in the fridge for dinner except some withered carrots. Since I’d stopped working for him, Heller wouldn’t let me access his generously stocked pantry, and as I never found any time for grocery shopping, my pantry was frequently bare these days. It was like being impoverished all over again.
After a lot of persuasion, Heller had allowed me to continue to use the small car he’d bought for my exclusive use when I’d worked for him, but I had to fork up the dough for registration, maintenance and petrol. If I’d thought that sleeping with him would change his mind about supporting me as someone who didn’t earn him a profit, I was soon disabused of that crazy notion. But although he was a hard man in many ways, some of those ways could be very good indeed.
After much cajoling and threatening to sit on him and kiss him if he didn’t, Daniel finally agreed to make me some dinner. We trooped over to his flat across the hallway and I stayed there until I couldn’t fight off my sleepiness.
Heller had told me earlier he’d be detained by a late meeting with the night shift foreman of a huge construction site for which Heller’s had been contracted to provide security. So I didn’t bother heading up to his place. It wouldn’t kill either of us to spend one night apart, and, to be honest, I needed the sleep – the man was a beast in the bedroom. As I snuggled into my own bed, I knew that he would probably seek me out. On the rare nights where I decided I needed a break from his intensity and didn’t visit him, he would track me down regardless. He was insatiable.
I was fast asleep when Heller finally arrived home. He strode into my bedroom, pulling off his Heller’s shirt as he approached me and flinging it over his shoulder. He kicked off his boots and kneeled heavily on the bed, yanking down my pyjama boxers. He pulled my top over my head, leaving me naked and blinking with sleepiness.
He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his cargo pants, pushing them and his boxers down just far enough to free his erection. He pushed my legs apart, slicked me up with his spit and drove his hugeness into me in one hard thrust.
“Oh God, Matilda,” he groaned, squeezing my breasts roughly. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
I didn’t get a chance to say a word before he ground his lips onto mine and forced his tongue into my mouth. There was nothing gentle about him, his thrusts hot and urgent, jolting my entire body and making me repeatedly bang my head on the bedhead.
He freed my lips for an instant, allowing us both to draw in some air.
“Heller . . .” I managed to stutter as he drove into me again and again, not sure if I was begging him to stop or pleading with him to continue.
“It feels so good,” he gasped, doubling the speed of his thrusting and frantically claiming my lips again.
I endured the brisk pounding a while longer until he growled down low in his throat, his body freezing as he spurted deep inside me. Depleted and panting wildly, he rolled off me and flopped down on his back, taking a moment to finally kick off his pants. A sheen of sweat glistened on his brow.
“Well, hello to you too,” I said, a little snippy, hoping my brains would soon stop rattling.
He smiled into the darkness and leaned over to kiss me gently. “Hello, my sweet. I’m sorry that wasn’t a very pleasurable experience for you, but I had a need for you so strong I couldn’t contain it. I’ve been literally aching for you today.”
I guess I should be flattered. “You were a bit rough, Heller.”
“I’m sorry. Let me do something to make up for it.”
He started kissing me, but soon his gentle kisses turned more demanding, his hand caressing my breast. I responded to his ardour as I hadn’t been able to his animal lust. His hand crept lower between my thighs, his fingers dipping in and out of me, circling and stroking, working their magic. It wasn’t long before I was arching my back, pressing down on his fingers with my own to ensure he kept up that particular stroking in that particular spot.
“Yes. Yes,” I moaned. “Don’t stop. Please. Oh. Oh.”
He moved his lips down to my breast, his busy tongue sending tingles right down to my centre that pushed me soaring over that glorious edge.
It was my turn to lay back, eyes closed, breathing heavily, every sense throbbing with pleasure. When I recovered, I rolled onto my side to face him.
“Hello again to you,” I smiled.
He smiled back and stroked my cheek. “Hello to you too.”
“How was your evening?”
“Better now.” I stretched languidly and yawned. He traced around my breast with a lazy finger. “I love pleasuring you. You enjoy it so much.”
I laughed. “What woman wouldn’t?”
“I love that you don’t hold back.”
“I love how you make it impossible for me to hold back,” I said, reaching over to kiss him.
I nuzzled his neck, covering it in tiny kisses, my arm thrown across his chest in post-coital exhaustion. I loved this big man in bed with me so much, I thought dreamily. I revelled in that love; rejoiced in it. I immersed myself in my feelings for him, snuggling my body closely against his.
“I
love you, Heller,” I murmured into his neck. I loved his blond hair. I loved his smooth, tanned skin, his accent, his long, elegant fingers, his icy blue eyes.
He tightened his arms around me and kissed my forehead. I looked up and he kissed my lips, a lingering embrace. “I know, my sweet.”
He smiled, his white teeth glinting in the moonlight. He was beautiful when he smiled. He was beautiful when he frowned. He was simply beautiful. And he was mine – I think.
After a moment, he spoke again. “Are you happy with me, Matilda? Is what we have now good for you? Is it what you want?”
I kissed him slowly. “Oh yes. I’ve never been happier.”
He suddenly gripped me tightly, gasping almost as if in pain.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, slightly panicked.
His voice was hoarse as he moved his hand to his chest. “I just had the most incredible wave of emotion for you. It startled me as it does every time it happens. I don’t know what it means.”
I laughed, relaxing again. “That’s called love, Heller. I’m sorry to break it to you, but I think you love me.”
“Is that what love feels like?”
“Yes,” I laughed again.
“It’s not what I imagined. It took my breath away. It felt wonderful and frightening at the same time.”
I leaned on his chest and smiled at him. “It is wonderful and frightening. Welcome aboard the roller-coaster of love. Don’t forget to strap yourself in for the ride.”
“I’m not comfortable with these feelings at all.”
“I’m afraid life doesn’t usually give you a choice about love. Mostly it just happens and you can’t stop it. And you can’t make yourself feel it either, if it’s not there for someone.”
“These emotional matters are too complicated for me,” he dismissed. I slapped him lightly on the chest in exasperation. “All I know is that I feel . . .” He searched for the correct word. “I feel right when you’re with me. In balance, as if you give me something I didn’t even know I needed.”