A Fine Line

by Sue Horsford

  “But when Gabriel was little, he wasn’t perfect. He was just a typical little boy. He could be cheeky and would sulk if he didn’t get his own way, just like any other child of his age, I suppose. But Andrew didn’t see it that way. In his eyes, if Gabriel misbehaved, it was my fault. I obviously wasn’t bringing him up properly.”

  She stopped, a catch in her voice, and I waited while she composed herself.

  “At first, he never hit me in front of Gabriel. Then one day Gabriel was five, nearly six, and he broke the towel rail in the bathroom. I’ve no idea how. Anyway, at first he denied it was him and Andrew was furious, not so much at what he’d done, but at the fact that he would lie about it.”

  She stopped again and I wondered if she was aware that she was wringing her hands in anguish.

  “Don’t go on if it’s too painful for you, Barbara.”

  “No, I want to. So, anyway, Andrew said, ‘Well if it wasn’t you, it must have been Mummy. So I’ll have to punish Mummy.’ He turned around and slapped me across the face. It was only a slap, but it was so hard I lost my balance and fell to the floor. Gabriel was beside himself with fear. He was nearly six years old, but he actually wet himself. But you know, even though he was terrified, he was such a brave little boy. He cried out, ‘No, Daddy, it was me. Don’t hit Mummy, it was me.’”

  Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she drew a shuddering breath. “So then Andrew said I must have been teaching Gabriel to lie. No son of his would ever lie to his own father unless he was encouraged to do so by his whore of a mother. He pushed me down onto the sofa and he started punching me over and over in my stomach and my back.

  “Gabriel was screaming hysterically. I’ll never forget hearing my baby boy screaming, Faye. Then afterwards, Andrew said to him that from now on, whenever he was naughty, Mummy would get punished. From then on, he was such a well-behaved, serious little boy. It was a year and a half before he stopped wetting the bed, though.”

  “What a bastard!” I said viciously. “What was Gabriel’s relationship with Andrew like after that?”

  “Oh, he was always scrupulously polite and so careful never to upset him. Then one day, when he was about nine, he came home from school really excited. His best friend, Peter, had just told him his parents were getting divorced. Gabriel saw a way out for me. Why didn’t I divorce his dad and we could go away and live somewhere on our own? But then I told him I didn’t believe in divorce and we just needed to try really hard not to upset Daddy and everything would be fine.” She took another deep breath and wiped a tear away from her cheek. “I think that was the moment he began to lose respect for me. Then, when he went away to university, he just stopped speaking to his father. He’d only ring if he knew Andrew wouldn’t be there and he never came home on the holidays. He graduated with a first class honors degree. Did he tell you that? He wanted me to be there, but Andrew stopped me from going. Gabriel was so hurt that he didn’t contact me for nearly a year.

  “Then, out of the blue, he called me. He told me he was living up in Edinburgh, he had a two-bedroom flat and he was working as a photographer. He begged me to leave Andrew and come and live with him. But I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready to give up on Andrew. I really believed he could change.”

  She appeared to have finished her story.

  “What happened then?” I prompted her.

  “Then Gabriel told me that was it. If I wouldn’t let him help me, he was going to have to step away. He said he could tell just by my voice on the phone whether Andrew had been hurting me again and it was breaking his heart and he just couldn’t do it anymore, always wondering would this be the time I’d leave, or would this be the time Andrew killed me? And that was it. He never contacted me again.

  “I had no idea where he was living, what he was doing, whether he’d married, whether I had grandchildren, whether he was happy, even whether he was still alive. I asked Andrew to find out where he was and he said he’d tried, but I didn’t believe him. Surely a man in his position would have been able to find out something. Not a day has gone by in the last twenty years that I haven’t ached for my boy, Faye.” She tried to smile but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So that day, when I saw the two of you out shopping, I wanted nothing more than to run over and throw my arms around him. But I really didn’t know what his reaction would be. He’d disowned me, remember? I couldn’t have borne it if he’d cut me dead in the street.”

  “He’d never have done that,” I said.

  “Maybe not, but, anyway, Andrew was with me. He was looking at something in a shop window, so he didn’t see Gabriel and I didn’t want him to know I’d seen him. That would be my secret. Then I realized who Gabriel was with. I didn’t know how you knew my son, but I suddenly felt it was meant to be. He knows Faye, I thought. I can contact him through her. I can tell him how sorry I am and maybe she can explain what it’s like for women in my situation, how difficult it is to leave. So I wrote that letter.”

  “And did he write back?”

  “No, he didn’t,” she said sadly. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  There was a discreet cough at the door and Gabriel came in carrying coffee. “I didn’t know what to write,” he said.

  Barbara gave him a look of such love and longing, I couldn’t see how he could fail to be touched by it.

  “And can you forgive me?” she pleaded.

  “I should be saying that to you,” he said.

  Later, after dinner, Gabriel brought out a bottle of cabernet sauvignon and two glasses. “Glass of wine?” he asked Barbara.

  She seemed unsure for a moment.

  “Please,” he said.

  He obviously meant it as a peace offering.

  She nodded. “Yes, I will. Thank you.”

  “Where’s my glass?” I asked.

  Gabriel gave me a stern look. “Not with those painkillers, young lady. I think you probably need an early night, anyway, after the day you’ve had.”

  I took the hint. Three was a crowd and Gabriel and Barbara had twenty years to catch up on.

  I gave an exaggerated yawn. “You’re right. I am tired. I think I’ll go up.”

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Gabriel said.

  I stood up. “Good night, Barbara.”

  “Good night, dear,” she said with such warmth in her voice, I wanted to go over and give her a kiss. I suddenly felt a little envious of Gabriel. It seemed we’d both been dealt a crap hand in the father department, but at least Gabriel had a loving mother.

  Gabriel led me upstairs to a beautiful room with a four-poster bed and en suite bathroom. He removed my sling then undressed me. “Did you bring anything to wear in bed?”

  “No, I wanted to sleep naked with you, but now I’m wishing I’d bought cozy pajamas.”

  “Hang on a minute.” He went to his bag and brought out a white T-shirt, which he slipped over my head.

  I breathed in deeply. Even though it was freshly laundered I could just make out a faint scent of cedarwood. “Will you wait here while I brush my teeth?”

  Gabriel laughed. “Do you want me to tuck you up in bed and read you a story, as well, sweetheart?”

  “No, it’s just… I still feel a bit freaked out after today.”

  Gabriel stopped laughing immediately. “Of course I’ll wait here for you. Poor baby, what with one thing and another, my family and I are causing you quite a bit of trouble.”

  I came out of the bathroom and he helped me into bed and pulled the covers over me. I didn’t actually need him to assist me quite as much as he was doing. It was only one hand that was out of action. But it felt good to have him take care of me. It reminded me that I belonged to him. And I could pretend for a moment that he loved me.

  “You try to get a good night’s sleep, sweetheart. I’ll do my best not to wake you when I come to bed.”

  He kissed me gently on the lips, put out the light and closed the door.

  Left alone in the dark, I could suddenly see Andr
ew in front of me with that grin on his face.

  “Gabriel!”

  Almost immediately, he was back in the room.

  “Put the light on,” I said, my voice shaking with fear.

  He flicked the switch and I sighed as Andrew receded into the shadows. Gabriel sat on the bed. “Do you want me to leave a lamp on?”

  “Please,” I said. “Gabriel, would he really have shot me, do you think?” I started to shake all over, my teeth chattering so violently that I could hear them, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

  Gabriel pulled me into his arms. “I wondered when it would hit you,” he said. “You’ve been far too calm.” He held me close to his chest until I’d stopped shaking, soothed by the warmth of his body, then he kissed me on the forehead and said, “Just think of it this way—you’re the first woman in my life to meet my parents.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “How do you think it went?” I giggled. “Do you think they liked me?”

  “I think my mother adores you. Sweetheart, are you on the verge of hysterics?”

  I gulped. “No, but it is funny when you think about it, isn’t it?”

  “Not really, no, but it’s nice to see you laugh. I’m actually quite surprised you haven’t cried today. That’s not like you at all. You normally cry at least three times a day.”

  “Pig,” I said, giving him a playful slap with my good hand.

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow and I giggled again.

  “Do you think the fact that my mother is downstairs will save you from a trip over my knee?” he asked me.

  I sobered immediately. “Good night, Sir.”

  “Good night, sweetheart.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Light was just beginning to filter through the curtains and, for a moment, I had to think where I was. Then warm breath tickled the back of my neck and I turned to see Gabriel asleep next to me. Some people look ugly while they’re sleeping, but Gabriel’s face was as composed and beautiful as always, his lips, which could be so stern, now soft and sensual, practically begging to be kissed.

  God, I loved him. He’d said he didn’t want anything serious, but if I was his perfect submissive, if I gave him everything he needed, would he let me stay with him?

  His eyes opened, startling me. “Are you watching me, sweetheart?”

  I cast my eyes downward. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Hmm,” he said, drawing me into his arms and pulling me against his body, still warm with sleep. “You’ve woken up in a submissive mood, my babe. I think that deserves a reward, don’t you?”

  He helped me up into a sitting position, took off my T-shirt then pulled me back down into his arms. I pressed my face against his bare chest and breathed him in, inhaling his scent of clean sweat, spice and the lingering smell of cedarwood. He brushed his fingers across my breasts, making me shiver with pleasure, then he brought his head down and teased my nipple with his tongue while he skated his hand down my body and parted my thighs.

  Instantly I was wet for him, my lover, my Master, my life. He probed me with his long fingers, exploring every inch of me, while he skimmed my clitoris with his thumb, bringing me to the edge of orgasm then pulling me back, deliberately prolonging the agony-ecstasy until I was whimpering, “Please, Sir, please let me come.”

  “Sir hasn’t finished yet,” he breathed in my ear.

  He threw back the covers then turned me over so I was lying half on my back, half on my side with my leg across his. He entered me from behind and moved in and out of me with almost unbearable slowness while he parted my lips with his fingers and exposed my now swollen clit. He stroked it, softly at first, teasing me, while he lavished kisses upon my neck and shoulders.

  I whimpered again.

  He laughed. “Poor baby, you need to come badly, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Master,” I groaned. “Please, please make me come.”

  “Tell me what you want me to do to you, then.”

  “Stroke harder, faster,” I gasped.

  “Where do you want me to stroke, kitten? Ask me properly.”

  “My clit, Sir. Please stroke my clit, hard and fast. Please, Master.”

  “I like you to beg me for your pleasure,” he murmured. He moved his fingers faster, almost skimming my clitoris. “Is this what you want?”

  I couldn’t answer him. I threw back my head and grasped the sheet in one fist at the sensation of his fingers on my clit while he moved his cock so slowly inside me. No one had ever fucked me like this, as if my pleasure was the only thing that mattered. My whole body shuddered as waves of orgasm surged through my body and I had to bury my face in the pillow to muffle my cries. My muscles contracted around his cock, then he groaned softly against my neck and, a moment later, the hot spurt of his orgasm erupted inside me.

  We remained locked together without speaking, Gabriel’s head on my shoulder, then he kissed my hair and gently pulled out of me. I turned onto my back and gazed up at the beamed ceiling with a contented smile on my face.

  “You’re looking very pleased with yourself, madam,” Gabriel said, brushing my hair away from my forehead.

  I laughed. “That was amazing. You’re a fantastic lover, Gabriel.”

  “Well, thank you. I aim to please.”

  I sighed. “And I’m really happy. I know there’s a lot going on, but right now, life seems just about perfect.”

  “I’m glad. It’s good to live in the moment. People ask too many questions in relationships. Do you think we’ll still be together this time next year, this time next month, this time next week? Where’s this relationship going? Why does a relationship need to go anywhere? Why can’t two people who are having a good time together just enjoy today instead of always planning for tomorrow?”

  “You’re being very deep for this early in the morning,” I said, glad I hadn’t asked him where our relationship was going.

  “Hmm,” he said absent-mindedly. “Oh, by the way, Steph phoned last night. You said you’d phone her and you didn’t.”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “How was she with you?”

  “How was she? Do you mean on a scale of one to ten with one being ‘you’re quite a nice guy, really’ and ten being ‘you womanizing, marriage-wrecking bastard, you ruined my best mate’s life’?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I love her dearly, but she does tend to say what she thinks.”

  “Well, she’s quite entitled to have a go at me, I suppose. But you can tell her if she ever decided to become a Dominatrix there are men who’d pay for a tongue-lashing like that.”

  I had to laugh at the thought of Steph as a Dominatrix. A thought occurred to me. “Have you ever, you know, done it the other way round?”

  He laughed. “What? Been a submissive?” He pinched my cheek. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

  “I can’t imagine it. You’re so dominant.”

  The smile on Gabriel’s face died. “I want to make you a promise. I am nothing like my father. I’ll never do anything you haven’t already agreed to. I’ll never hit you with my fists. I’ll never strike you anywhere but on the buttocks or the backs of your legs, unless I’m giving you an erotic flogging, and I will never, ever do anything unjust.”

  His expression was intense, and I hurried to reassure him. “I believe you. I told you once before that I trust you with my life. And who knows, if you hadn’t turned up yesterday… Perhaps you’ve already saved my life.”

  Gabriel pulled a face. “I think that’s probably more to do with Andrew’s dickey heart.”

  “Well, I prefer to think of you as my hero.”

  “God help you,” he said gravely. He sat up and looked down at me, his expression unreadable.

  “So, did you sort things out with Barbara last night?” I asked him.

  “More or less,” he said. “She still insists she did the right thing staying with him all those years and says she’d do the same again.”

  “Why?”

  “She says everyone deserves a
second chance and she believes God wanted her to help Andrew change. She’s given up on that one now, you’ll be glad to hear. She’s mortified about what he did to you and she says if you want to press charges, she’ll back you up.”

  “That’s very brave of her,” I said, “but I still haven’t decided what to do.”

  “If you’re afraid of repercussions, don’t be. I’ll do my best to make sure no harm comes to you.”

  “You’re very protective,” I said.

  He stood up. “Well, you belong to me. I like to take care of my possessions.” He turned and pulled the covers off me. “Now, we should get you in the shower. Do you need any help?”

  We made our way downstairs, greeted by the irresistible smell of bacon cooking, and we came into the kitchen where Barbara stood at the old-fashioned range cooker with a contented smile on her face.

  “Good morning,” she said casually, as if cooking breakfast for her son and his married lover was something she did every day.

  We sat at the table, where two places had been laid, and Barbara put two huge plates of food in front of us then sat at the table with just a cup of tea.

  “You not having anything, Mum?” Gabriel asked.

  “I’m too happy to eat. I just want to watch you eating. When did I last cook breakfast for you, Gabriel?”

  He smiled at her. “Far too long ago.”

  After breakfast, Gabriel was clearing the table when his phone rang.

  “Hello. Yes, speaking,” he said. He listened for a few minutes while Barbara stood perfectly still, unable to take her eyes off him.

  “I see, thank you for letting me know,” he said and hung up. He looked at Barbara, his expression unreadable.

  “He’s gone, hasn’t he?” she whispered. It was impossible to tell from her face what she wanted the answer to be.

  Gabriel sighed. “He’s come round and he’s doing well.”