by Wells, J
They were both well into their fifties, and she knew she wasn’t planned; a mistake, an inconvenience. She thought the world of them, but with age, their ways were becoming more and more regimented, and her father more money-driven and ambitious. She thought back to how different they were with Amy, her sister, how much interest they showed in her. Being their firstborn she was definitely the favourite, but then she’d never really connected too well with her sister either, the thirteen-year age gap was too much to bridge, and now she’d moved on with her life and had a daughter of her own.
“Why do you keep looking at your watch?” her mum asked inquisitively, carving a joint of beef into slices.
“I didn’t realise I was... No reason really, just thought I might pop into the village,” Heather replied, looking at the time. It was six forty-five.
“Eat your dinner first; it’s your favourite,” her mother said, before disappearing into the kitchen.
She reappeared seconds later with a serving dish of steaming roast veg. Heather’s mouth watered at the sweet essence of parsnips, yet she only picked at her meat and a small Yorkshire pudding before excusing herself.
Within five minutes, she’d been to her room, changed, brushed her hair and was sitting in her car with the key in the ignition. As her purple Ka passed through the beautiful gardens, she peered up at the sky; the sun setting, leaving a striking red glow. She slowed as the cattle grid approached, before heading down a narrow road, really no more than a winding lane with trees and hedgerow either side. It wasn’t ideal when the weather turned, but it was the only one that led into Lushcombe. She checked the clock on her dashboard – twenty past seven. Ten minutes, she thought as she changed gear, without meeting a tractor or such like. She could feel her heart racing at the first sign of thatched cottages. She drove past the run-down community centre and village store with its red and white awning, before pulling up outside the Sheep Inn. Would he be there? Had he just popped in? Maybe he’d left already. Her conscience fought with itself as she tried to validate why she should go inside.
The pub was a decent size, with a thatch roof, white painted walls and a new extension built on the side where a disco was held every Friday and Saturday for the locals, which had become quite popular. The car park was not overly full for a Thursday evening.
Getting out of the car, Heather locked the door. Here goes, she thought, taking a deep breath, and opened the door leading into the pub. Stepping inside, she was greeted with muffled voices and laughter. It was more spacious than she had imagined as she walked towards the bar. She felt very uncomfortable, but tried her best not to look it. Her eyes were immediately drawn towards the pool table, as if sensing where he’d be.
Ruben was wearing a white open-neck shirt and nicely fitted jeans; he bent to take his shot... Stop it, Heather! What am I doing? she thought to herself, refocusing. His jeans hugged him tightly in all the right places, the line of his boxers once again on show. Everyone else in the room may as well have disappeared as she made her way towards him. As she did so, he turned towards the bar and caught sight of her. The way he looked at her made her feel naked and completely vulnerable, like he had the ability to see beneath her dress. She hadn’t knowingly dressed to impress and just grabbed the first thing in her wardrobe that came to hand – an off-the-shoulder kingfisher-blue maxi.
Ruben’s eyes smiled, to which hers smiled back. No words were needed. He took her by the hand, and she caught the scent of his aftershave, raw yet heady, intoxicating, filling the air. It was like they were caught in a bubble, where no one else existed. Heather felt totally out of control, lost in the moment, and she realised she’d do anything for this man.
He led her into a snug, a small room, which had only a couple of tables and an open fireplace, although it wasn’t lit since it was a warm summer’s evening. Nevertheless, it had a very cosy feel, and better still, they were alone.
“I was just about to get the next round. What’s your poison?” he asked, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
“Orange, cranberry juice ... either or.” She paused, taking a seat. “I’m driving,” she muttered awkwardly after seeing his expression change.
“Are you always this much fun?”
Heather blushed. “Only when I’m driving,” she joked, looking at him playfully.
She watched him walk towards the bar, returning with a tray containing five drinks and a small bowl of mixed nuts, which he placed on the table with an orange juice and a beer.
“’Ang on, love, just got to give these to me mates.” He headed back towards the snooker table, and seconds later he was seated next to her. “You’re keen, eh?” he boasted, looking for a response.
Heather, lost for words, just sat in silence, reaching for the bowl of nuts to hide her momentary embarrassment. He took her hand in his.
“Lighten up,” he said, pulling her closer. “I’m only joking.” He ran his fingers softly through her hair, brushing it back behind her ears. “There, I can see your face now,” he murmured, stroking her cheek with his index finger.
They sat hand in hand, his grip firm and meaningful. She could feel him rubbing the inside of her palm, and again she blushed, tingling inside. She could feel his fingers between hers, causing an electricity to rage through her body. What was happening to her? She had never felt emotion like this before.
“You’re not in any rush, are you?” Ruben asked, letting go of Heather’s hand and moving his own to rest on the inside of her thigh. He squeezed softly. “My parents are away...”
He quickly explained that he was shacking up with them for a couple of weeks while his own apartment was being renovated.
“So ... got an empty house, if you want?” he continued.
Heather’s eyes widened. She did want, but things were happening far too fast. She could feel his warm breath on the side of her face. She inhaled; he smelt so good.
“I ... erm ... well...”
“Okay then, your call,” Ruben said, picking up his pint. “Best get back to me game then.” There was a noticeable cooling to his demeanour. “Another time, maybe.”
He gave her a sideways glance and, without further ado, walked back over to the snooker table, leaving Heather confused and longing for more. Time slipped by slowly; a good half an hour passed as she sipped her drink awkwardly, watching him watching her, overhearing meaningless conversations and cheesy jukebox tunes, some played over and over as she sat feeling dejected, and watched uneasily the body language between two girls Ruben was obviously acquainted with, the taller and older of the two with flame-red hair. Heather glared as the redhead leaned provocatively against the baize of the snooker table while Ruben played his next shot. She couldn’t hear the words that passed between them, but the chemistry they shared was obvious.
Feeling a streak of jealousy, Heather had no intention of playing second fiddle to anyone, and was certainly not prepared to watch Ruben flirt back in her face, so she put her half-empty glass on the table, and the next thing she knew her arms were firmly around his waist, her head pressed against the arch of his back.
“Are we leaving then?”
He jumped, surprised by her forthrightness.
“Why, aren’t you the dark horse?” he replied, turning triumphantly. “Well, Beth, maybe next time...”
Disdain was etched on the redhead’s face. If looks were daggers, Heather had a good idea where she’d be at this moment. Once again, she felt his hand in hers.
“Give her one for me!” Heather thought she heard one of his mates say, followed by laughter, but of course she could have been wrong, or he could have been talking to someone else.
“I’ll drive,” Ruben insisted, their feet crunching against the coarse shingle as they headed across the car park to a rather snazzy jet-black BMW, resembling a large panther.
“Don’t think so, the way you’ve been knocking them back. I’ll drive.” Heather was not about to take no for an answer, and led him to the opposite end of the car p
ark where she’d left her little motor.
“Purple Ka?” Ruben sneered. “All it needs is a ribbon and it’ll look more like a bloody Easter egg.”
“Well, it’s that or walk.”
Ruben peered through the passenger-side window, screwing up his nose.
“Where am I supposed to put me legs?” he asked suggestively.
Blushing was becoming quite the norm for Heather, and, unable to answer, quickly retreated into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition. Ruben sat next to her in the passenger seat, pushing it back as far as possible to accommodate his height. Heather put her foot on the clutch, and as she did so, she felt his hand on her thigh. He’s gorgeous, but can I do this? she thought, looking in the rear-view mirror. And what do I do? She’d never been in this position before, and her stomach was in knots. What if I’m no good? A battle was taking place in her head, but she knew the uneasiness she felt was of her own making. She found herself driving in the opposite direction to Freesdon Manor as Ruben called out directions. They passed from one narrow lane to another, and then through a small village.
“I thought you said you only lived down the road,” Heather questioned.
“Well, if you’re in that much of a rush, love, I know a good few lay-bys,” Ruben joked, ruching her dress up above her knee.
Heather flinched as she felt him stroking the skin on her inner thigh. She could feel his warm fingers, his flesh against hers. She sensed his eyes wandering over her body as she drove and was finding it very hard to concentrate. His presence and touch were too much, her breathing shallow as she tried to gulp in air. She felt like her whole body was on the verge of explosion.
“Not now,” she said in a quivering voice, pushing his arm away. “My eyes need to be on the road and my mind on the job in hand.”
“I’ll find alternative employment for your hand later,” Ruben muttered seductively.
Bloody hell, what am I doing? she asked herself again as her face turned the same shade as a rising sun. Trying hard to get her mind back on the road, she took the next left down a private lane set between a number of mature deciduous trees and they were soon approaching a unique-looking house. Although a modern build, it was of grand design, set in a couple of acres of land. On first glance she thought it must have five or six bedrooms. She drove onto a large block-paved driveway.
“It’s all ours, for tonight anyway,” Ruben bragged, struggling out of the car and walking towards the front door.
Heather fumbled in retrieving the keys from the ignition, trying to regain her composure. Part of her wanted to run in the opposite direction, yet she was also desperate to follow him into the house. Normally she was so in control and decisive, yet she’d backed herself into a corner this time. But then I am nearly eighteen, and isn’t this what all girls my age are doing? she thought, trying to justify her rash actions. This certainly wasn’t going to be a ‘take it slow’ relationship. She didn’t think for too long and decided to follow him, and was soon standing in a square hallway.
Ruben pointed towards a door.
“Make yourself at home,” he said. “I’ll just grab us a drink. Wine or beer? Or there’s some alcopops in the fridge, if you’d prefer? You are going to have a drink, aren’t you?”
“Wine’s fine,” she stuttered.
“Good girl, now you can really loosen up. I’ll go check the hot tub.”
“Oh, if I’d have known I’d have brought my bikini, so maybe next time, if that’s ok?”
“Don’t worry, you won’t need a bikini.”
And with that, he disappeared through the door, leaving Heather in no doubt as to his intentions. I’ll get out of it somehow, she thought, trying to steady her hands as she opened one of the double doors leading into the lounge. She was immediately hit by a strong fragrance of potpourri. The room was a good size, with a marble fireplace and large square bay window, the decor subtle in varying shades of grey. An expensive-looking leather settee complemented the room. She seated herself on the chair nearest to the window. Ruben peeked around the door.
“Drinks are on the patio,” he called, walking away.
Heather followed his voice back through the hallway into an L-shaped kitchen, which looked newly fitted, with modern units in a deep red and the splashbacks having their own mood lighting. She could hear soft music playing in the background. He was standing in the open patio doorway, which led out to the gardens. The soft melody enhanced the atmosphere as the light began to fade, and there was still a warmth in the air. He stood with a bottle in one hand and two wine glasses in the other, wearing only a pair of jersey boxers.
Oh shit! She gulped with the sudden realisation that this was no longer a game.
“Grab a glass then,” he said, smiling. “A nice rosé, not too sharp, good bodied, with a sweet undertone.” As he spoke, his eyes wandered to her cleavage and down her petite hourglass figure, seducing her with his eyes, addressing every curve. “The water’s perfect. Take your clothes off, there’s a good girl.”
Heather could feel a cooling in the atmosphere and noticed a frown appear on Ruben’s face; he was obviously picking up on her own uncertainty.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite ... well, not unless you ask of course.”
She watched his lips pucker. He kissed her softly on the forehead, folding his arms around her small frame, pulling her into him. She could feel his warm body against hers, her heart almost beating out of her chest.
“Don’t keep me waiting,” he whispered, filling his glass for the second time, before disappearing into the garden.
Heather stood alone, trembling with anticipation, an argument raging in her mind. If I do, what will he think of me? Will I just be an easy lay? But then if I don’t, he’ll wonder what the hell I’m doing here, that I’m leading him on... Am I? Do I want this? Am I ready? I don’t know what I want, she thought, angrily kicking off her shoes. She shakily undid the side zip of her dress and it slipped to the floor. She hurriedly stepped out of it and was now standing in only her bra and panties. Calm down, she thought to herself, it’s just like wearing a bikini. I’ll just go with the flow, her mind working overtime as she walked through the doorway to be greeted by a two-tiered patio. On the uppermost tier stood an open-fronted gazebo, in the centre of which was the hot tub, oozing the smell of chlorine. It looked so inviting, and Ruben even more so as she walked towards him slowly, trying to cover her embarrassment. His eyes were open, but only partially, his body submerged in the bubbling warm waters. With his striking green eyes and blonde hair, he took on the appearance of a Greek god.
“And the rest,” Ruben said.
She could see in his eyes how much he admired her figure, yet she sensed a hint of disappointment in his gaze that she was still in her underwear.
She glanced down, not wanting to meet his eyes, the jersey boxers he was wearing only moments ago now lying discarded on a small plastic chair next to the hot tub.
“Well, I’m waiting,” he said, his fingers strumming impatiently.
She walked cautiously up the two steps and dangled her foot in the warm water. It felt like heaven, and she stepped in quickly, lowering herself against the massaging jets that were invading her body from every side. Ruben reached out, wrapping his arms around her, and she gasped, feeling his male form next to hers.
“Heather, you’re so bloody hot,” he said. She smiled as he admired her model-like looks. “You’re mine now ... my girl.”
Her blue eyes shone like sapphires from the pallor of her perfect alabaster skin – a photographer’s dream. He wrapped her hair around his fingers, pulling her back roughly into the awaiting bubbles. She felt his tongue brush softly between her lips, flicking the nape of her neck, then lingering sensuously. Just as passionately she kissed him back, and their bodies became one. She felt in a euphoric state, so why did she stop?
“No, Ruben, it’s wrong, it’s too soon... I just can’t, I need time.” Heather cried uncontrollably, salty tears streaming down her
cheeks. “I’ve never done anything like this before ... I’m a virgin!” she shouted. “When I give myself to you, it’s got to be special.”
“But this is special, baby,” Ruben groaned, past the point of no return. “You want me, and I want you to give yourself to me. Please...”
He grabbed at her strapless bra, pulling anxiously at the hooks, trying to release her. Heather’s urge and desire were so strong, yet reasoning stepped in again and brought her back to reality. She wasn’t easy; she knew she was better than this.
“If you want me as much as you say, you’ll wait,” she panted. Her mind was strong, despite her body raging with lust, every nerve end tingling. But it was a want she knew she’d have to wait for.
“Wait! How long am I supposed to wait?” Ruben scowled, angrily pushing her away. “You want me as much as I want you, so why do you tease me? Why are you acting like a child?”
“I need more, more than this,” Heather sobbed. “I want you, I want the relationship, I want it all. It’s only three months till my eighteenth... not that it has anything to do with age.” She paused, momentarily composing herself and wiping away her tears. “I want us to get to know each other properly. I want my birthday to be our special night. I want to give myself to you for the right reasons, not just because I can. I need you to wait until I’m ready.”
She reached her hand over, reassuringly touching his shoulder, but Ruben pulled away abruptly,
“I didn’t realise you were only seventeen ... little girl!” he hissed. “That was a secret you kept damn close to your chest.” His voice was cold, filled with anger.