I Own You

by Dawn McConnell

  ‘Dawn, you look amazing! Let me take you through to the table – I want you to meet the other partners in my firm.’

  With that, he put his hand on the small of my back – my body thrilled to his touch – and led me through the crowds. He wore his black tie and kilt with real panache and he fitted in so well with this well-heeled set. He was smooth, elegant and charming – everything Stuart was not. At the table, he introduced me to a handful of middle-aged men; there was a real ripple of excitement when they realized I was joining them. Even so, I didn’t let the attention go to my head – I stuck to sipping mineral water so that I kept my wits about me and tried to sneak little sideways glances at Bryce. Meanwhile, Stuart stayed in the bar with the other chauffeurs.

  For the best part of three hours, I talked business with all the men around the table. Bryce was three seats away from me so we couldn’t speak one on one. It was agony being so close to him, having longed to see him again, and yet be unable to hear his voice or exchange views.

  Finally, as it approached 11 p.m., I was painfully conscious of Stuart waiting in the bar so I excused myself from the table. Frustratingly, Bryce and I hadn’t had a chance to chat the whole night. He stood up as I approached his seat to say my goodbyes. Like a gentleman, I thought.

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve got to go.’ I smiled apologetically. ‘But it’s been a lovely evening and it was great to meet your partners. Thank you for inviting me.’

  ‘So soon? Cinderella, home before midnight, eh?’

  I looked down and blushed.

  ‘Ah, what a shame,’ he went on, saving my embarrassment. ‘I so wanted to sit down and talk to you but, ah well, never mind, I’ll see you again soon.’

  Then he kissed me full on the lips. I felt a thrill of sensual pleasure like nothing I had ever experienced before. It was easily the most arousing moment of my life. My heart was doing somersaults and I could sense my whole body tingling with excitement. Did he do this to everyone? Did he fancy me? Or was he just drunk? If only I knew what that kiss meant!

  More. I want more!

  Forget Cinderella, I was more like Sleeping Beauty, being awoken from a very long, deep sleep by the kiss of a prince. I was alive. For the first time in my life, I felt alive. Every cell in my body screamed out for more but I knew it couldn’t be. Not here.

  Quickly, I looked around. Thank God Stuart hadn’t seen the kiss or he would have hit the roof! But, as it turned out, I had nothing to worry about on the Stuart front . . .

  ‘Who’s that bloke that invited you, then?’ My husband quizzed me on the way home.

  ‘Bryce Loweth,’ I replied, as casually as possible. ‘He’s the CEO of an asset management firm. Says he’s got some property we might be interested in.’

  ‘Short black hair? The one with the kilt?’

  ‘Yes, that’s him.’

  ‘He’s gay.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Hmmm. You’re probably right.’

  No, I thought to myself, as my lips still tingled with the pleasure of Bryce’s kiss, you’re most definitely wrong.

  Chapter 22

  Awakenings

  The very next day, I emailed Bryce, thanking him for the invite and asking if he had any property he wanted me to look at – an excuse to get to see him again.

  But I didn’t get a reply for six weeks. Six whole weeks. In that time, I drove myself mad, wondering what I’d done to offend him or make him think badly of me, but it turned out – as Hannah had experienced before me when she’d tried to set up our initial meeting – that Bryce Loweth was just a very busy man. For finally, after six weeks of hell, I got an email inviting me for a Christmas drink at an upmarket wine bar in town. Yes!

  This time, I wasn’t going to mess around. I’d been far too bloody subtle last time in my androgynous tuxedo. For our lunchtime drink, I poured myself into a red Roland Mouret dress that clung dangerously to my curves and squeezed my feet into a pair of killer Louboutins. I didn’t like to wear heels most of the time – I was far happier in trainers – but after six weeks of waiting, it was time to get my man. After all, I had endured years in a loveless marriage, sealed with vows I had made only in fear. My feelings for Bryce were overwhelming and I wanted to feel special – the way he had made me feel even on the two brief occasions we had previously met; the way Stuart never, ever had.

  But that didn’t mean I was going to be easy pickings. I am an ice queen, I am an ice queen, I repeated to myself – advice from Hannah, who was the only person I had taken into my confidence about my feelings for Bryce – as I pulled open the heavy glass doors of the bar that afternoon in late December. Bryce stood up and waved to me from a booth at the back and my heart seemed to somersault right out of my chest.

  ‘Wow!’ he said admiringly as he greeted me with a kiss on each cheek. ‘Great dress. Please, take a seat.’ And he held my hand as I slid into the booth. His manners were so beautiful, I immediately felt good in his presence. Nobody has ever made me feel like this before, like a lady, like a woman of worth, I thought. I could get used to this . . .

  ‘Champagne?’ Bryce poured me a large glass from a bottle of Laurent-Perrier on ice. I accepted graciously; I needed some Dutch courage.

  ‘So you said you had some properties for me?’ I asked; I wasn’t very good at small talk. He opened his briefcase and handed me a sheaf of papers. For a while, I leafed through the property details. There were three which had promise and I told him I would take these – they were worth about £400,000. Expensive drink, I thought, as Bryce topped me up.

  Gradually, Bryce got me talking; I found I relaxed in his presence, let my guard down in a way I hadn’t for decades. I told him about how I came into the property business and a bit about my background with the bars and hotels. In turn, he regaled me with stories about his work as the CEO of an asset management firm and how he had helped to build up his company’s portfolio.

  But while our work was the main topic of conversation, there was another form of communication that was going on all at the same time. The way he’s looking at me, the way his eyes keep sliding down my body towards my legs, I thought, I can tell there is something between us.

  He wants this too, I realized.

  Finally, on the third glass of bubbles, I screwed up all my courage and quizzed him on the elephant in the room.

  ‘So, you’re married?’ I asked, my heart in my mouth as I waited for his response.

  ‘Hmmm . . .’ He nodded, twirling the stem of his champagne flute. Then he cleared his throat and added: ‘Not happily though.’

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. That makes two of us.

  ‘Well, what you need, then, is a mistress who is discreet,’ I said slowly, deliberately, barely able to believe my brazenness. ‘Someone with just as much to lose as you.’

  ‘And where do I find one of them?’

  ‘I’m one of them,’ I replied steadily. My heart was in my mouth again. Here it was, finally: I want him and now he knows it. Bryce’s eyebrows shot up and he broke into a massive grin while I looked at him demurely, then I tipped back my head and downed the rest of my drink.

  ‘You’re married too?’ he asked.

  ‘I’d say ours is a more platonic relationship,’ I said, and burst into nervous giggles. The truth was that as Stuart neared sixty, he went off sex. It was probably the years of heavy drinking, but these days he much preferred to knock back a bottle of Merlot in front of CSI than try to have sex with me. Sex was an effort for him, one that I did nothing to encourage.

  Bryce and I were both laughing now and I yearned to feel his arms holding me, to feel his soft lips on mine again.

  ‘Hey, I got you a present!’ He suddenly whipped out an envelope from his briefcase. ‘A Christmas gift.’

  It was a full day’s worth of pampering and treatments at the best spa in Glasgow.

  ‘That’s such a lovely gift,’ I said gratefully. ‘Thank you.’

&nbs
p; It was one of the only presents I had ever been given by a man – and Bryce barely knew me! Stuart had never bothered before, always insisting that presents were a sentimental waste of money. If I wanted something, he said I should just go and buy it myself. Bryce was clearly of a different mindset and when we left he insisted on paying for our drinks too.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he objected, when I tried to get my money out. Such a gentleman, I thought again, as he held open the glass doors for me on our way out. Where have you been all my life?

  ‘So do I get a Christmas kiss?’ he asked as we stood outside.

  ‘Of course.’ I smiled – and that’s when he took my face in both his hands and brought his soft lips to mine. It was the best kiss I had ever experienced: tender, gentle, sweet and sexy. He smelled so nice, so clean, and his lips tasted almost sugary, like candy floss. Warmth spread throughout my body. It felt like we were locked together forever . . . but in another second he pulled back and we both stared at each other.

  ‘Would you like to come back to my office?’ he whispered.

  Yes! Yes, I really did but, at that moment, I knew I was playing with fire. We were outside on the pavement, in full view of the whole world, and if this ever got back to Stuart my life would not be worth living. I couldn’t go back to his office now. Already I’d been out too long and I was worried about Stuart.

  ‘Another time,’ I said.

  ‘Promise?’

  I nodded. Now I knew what he wanted, but I was frightened of letting him down.

  ‘Just go for it!’ Hannah said the next day when I told her about the lunch. ‘He’s not going to tell anyone.’

  ‘So what do we do?’ I felt very insecure about sex and relationships. After all, I’d been with Stuart since the age of fourteen. I had no clue about how to behave or what to do.

  ‘Is it just sex at his office and then we go home?’ I asked. I knew I sounded foolish but I honestly had no idea what I was getting into.

  ‘Yes, that’s about right,’ Hannah said with a smirk, clearly amused by my naivety. I should have been ecstatic – after all, this was what I’d wanted all along – but the Bryce situation had screwed me up. I couldn’t eat, sleep or think about anything else. He consumed me completely.

  ‘Just get it over with,’ Hannah urged. ‘Have sex with him. Don’t worry about Stuart – I’ll cover for you.’

  I wanted Bryce so much. Even so, he was a hard man to pin down. I’d expected that he would contact me soon after our Christmas drink but it was another three months before I heard from him again. Hannah made me swear I wouldn’t contact him so I just had to wait for his call. Meanwhile, the sale of his flats was going ahead. I didn’t care about the cost – I would have spent a million just to see him again. Finally, he called and invited me for a drink at a museum bar I’d never heard of. It’s out of the way, I thought as I checked the address, so we don’t get seen by anyone.

  Once again, I dressed to kill; this time in a scarlet Victoria Beckham dress and beige heels. Bryce was waiting for me when I sauntered into the bar, swaying my hips with far more confidence than I felt, and he had a bottle of pink champagne on ice. He seemed really pleased to see me and we talked and drank and laughed for an hour. And then, just as we were leaving, he grabbed my arm and gave me a passionate kiss. I pulled away, terrified of getting caught.

  ‘Not here,’ I whispered.

  ‘Come back to my office,’ he urged, and this time I didn’t resist.

  We caught a taxi to his basement office, where he had more champagne waiting. The rest of the partners had offices on higher floors so there was literally nobody else there. Even so, Bryce locked the door. My heart pounded harder in my chest as I heard the key turn. What happens next? I wondered. All I’d ever known was Stuart – I didn’t allow myself to think of John – and my body seemed all at odds to be with this man I so desperately wanted. Never had I felt like this before about any man.

  Bryce came towards me then and kissed me passionately. With a touch so erotic I nearly collapsed in his arms, he took my dress off and caressed me, gently easing me out of my silk La Perla lingerie. He lay me back on his large couch and slipped off my knickers and then, for the first time in my life, he gave me oral sex. It was incredible and I actually had an orgasm – something that Stuart had never even attempted. For the first time I had amazing sex and I loved every minute. With Stuart it had all been about him; now, with Bryce, it was about me, and that was fantastic.

  Afterwards, I tried to get to the bottom of what was going on with him at home but he deflected my questioning with good-natured ripostes. And so, despite what I told myself about me deserving someone who treated me nicely for once, I felt sick with guilt about our infidelity that night – but also desperate to see him again.

  And it seemed he felt the same way. In time, it became a regular thing: we would meet up for drinks once a week or so and then go back to his office or a hotel for sex. He never asked me about my home life and I didn’t ask about his either now. Instead, we lived out our fantasies like a pair of lovers in a movie. There were hotels, bars, restaurants and long, highly charged bouts of lovemaking. Everything he did to me, with me and for me made me fall so much more in love with him, but I just couldn’t tell him. I wanted to shout from the rooftops how much in love I was, but I had no one to tell. Hannah had to cover for me regularly with Stuart as he often popped into the office when I was meeting Bryce. She’d say I was at a viewing or in a meeting. But eventually, after nearly a year of this clandestine relationship, she confided in me that she was worried.

  ‘You’re not actually falling for this guy, are you?’ she asked one day, after I floated back into the office following another energetic hour with Bryce.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I sighed.

  ‘Because if you fall for him, Stuart will kill you. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ I snapped. Why is she trying to bring me down? Can’t she see I’m happy for the first time?

  ‘Well, I’m just saying. I’m just warning you, for your own good, Dawn. I can’t cover for you for ever, he’s going to figure it out sooner or later.’

  She was right, I knew: it couldn’t last forever. Besides the danger of Stuart catching us, I was beginning to turn into a demented woman. Inevitably, after each wonderful, illicit encounter, I would return home miserable, knowing that I would not see Bryce again for another week or so. Even Mum noticed I’d been out of sorts recently and asked whether something was troubling me. I couldn’t tell her, of course. I knew that she was now a fan of Stuart thanks to the help he had given her since Dad died. She was also a firm believer that if you were married, that was it for life. Divorce was a dirty word in her book.

  Despite my passion for Bryce, I was still playing ‘the ice queen’. I never called him; I never told him my true feelings, scared in case it ruined everything. You don’t marry the man you have an affair with, I told myself. It’s just supposed to be sex. But I couldn’t help myself – I wanted so much more. After we made love he would wrap his strong arms around me, kiss the top of my head and stroke my hair. But he never said a word, never showed any emotion. I had no idea what was in his head and I was afraid to ask.

  Meanwhile, Stuart noticed I was pulling away from him. If I wasn’t meeting Bryce I would go out with business friends, giving me a social life I hadn’t previously enjoyed. My husband tried to demand that I stop going out – but I refused. So then he started turning up unexpectedly in the restaurant or bar where I was meeting friends, just to check up on me. It was highly embarrassing.

  Exasperated, I sat him down one day and said: ‘Stuart, I need my own time. My own space. Why don’t you see your friends anymore? There was once a time I didn’t see you from one day to the next. How about you go out with your friends again?’

  ‘I’ll do what I fucking want,’ he’d snarled before storming off upstairs. There was no reasoning with him.

  The truth was, he didn’t really have frie
nds anymore. Some had died, others had retired to the Costa del Sol and the rest were simply old men who didn’t enjoy hanging around in loud bars anymore. Just like Stuart, they preferred to be at home in a pair of slippers with their feet up. He was old now; there was no getting away from that. But at thirty-six I was still young: I wasn’t ready for old age. I’d missed out on my teens and twenties and now it was my time to have some fun. In my opinion, I’d bloody earned it and I was angry at the way he refused to give me my freedom after all these years. So the more he pushed, the more I pulled away from him. It was getting to the point where our marriage ties were strung so taut, they were bound to snap.

  Two years after our first meeting and eighteen months into our grand, dizzying affair, Bryce invited me to his fiftieth birthday party. This was a big deal, I realized. He wanted me to meet all his friends and family. Are we finally getting serious? The thought made my heart soar. Maybe he feels the same way I do?

  I wore an elegant navy Dolce & Gabbana dress to the restaurant he’d hired for the evening, determined to make a good first impression when I met his nearest and dearest. The moment I walked in, Bryce came up to greet me with a big smile. I handed over the silver cufflinks I’d bought him as a special birthday gift and he thanked me sincerely, his eyes fixing on mine as though drinking me in.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ he whispered at last, leading me by the elbow to a quiet corner.

  ‘I’ve left my wife,’ he said. My heart felt like it was floating free, untethered by his words. This is it! He’s left his wife for me because he loves me and now he wants to marry me. Yes. Yes! I knew it, I knew it . . .

  ‘But,’ he said, swallowing hard and not meeting my eye, ‘I’m seeing someone else.’