It just seems so hard, so I mutter, “A salad.”
“You can’t have a salad,” Liam barks at me.
“Why?”
“Salad is for waifs.”
I look down at myself and frown. “Is that a nice way of saying I’m fat?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “What? No!”
The waiter huffs loudly and shifts from one foot to the other. I’d feel sympathetic for him but he definitely has one eye bigger than the other and looks down right shifty.
“Fine!” I huff in return. “I’ll have chicken. Anything with chicken in.”
The waiter nods. “Is that with salad, ma’am?”
Jesus H Christ.
“Why not!”
Liam rolls his eyes and proceeds to order half of the menu as I guzzle down some more wine. I’m not quite sure this is going as well as I’d hoped, but after Frazer putting my back up, I decide I’m just being sensitive and try to relax a little more.
“So, Daisy…” Liam smiles at me, obviously trying, the same as me. “Do you ride?”
My jaw drops and I’m tempted to throw my damn wine at him. Well, I would if I wasn’t enjoying it so much. “Excuse me?”
“Bike riding. Most people come out to the country for it.”
Oh.
“Oh no.” I shake my head. “My backside isn’t really equipped for all that. Although, I did once try the bike at the gym. That shit hurt. Couldn’t feel my arse for three weeks solid. Everyone at work thought I had worms; couldn’t keep still. But then again, the post office chairs aren’t exactly….”
He’s staring at me, his eyes wide and his glass half tipped to his mouth.
I chuckle nervously. More wine.
“Right.”
There’s more than a couple of minutes’ silence and I tap my finger on my glass as I start to guzzle more. Shit.
Miraculously, thankfully, the waiter suddenly appears with our starters.
We eat. In silence.
I just want to go home.
I pause when my tit starts to wobble and AC/DC’s Shake your Foundations starts serenading everyone in the restaurant. Liam gawps at my chest, a mushroom hanging halfway out of his mouth. “Uhh, the whole of AC/DC appears to be camping out in your cleavage.”
Rolling my eyes, I reach into my bra and slide my phone out.
Can this night get any worse? Can it? It seems it most definitely can.
“Hey, Mum.”
“Daisy!” My mother’s high pitched shriek makes the wine glass on the table vibrate and I pull the phone from my ear slightly. “Where are you?”
“Uhh, The Cock Inn.”
There’s a silence, and then… “Are you having sex while I’m on the phone?”
“What? No. I’m in a pub!”
“You’re having sex in a pub? Jesus H Christ. Finally! I’m so proud of you, darling. So very proud. Is he good? Describe him for me. Is he big? Have you managed an orgasm?”
Liam seems to have gone into shock. His pale face is shaking from side to side as his eyes shift around the room.
“Well, anything must be better than that lump of lard that glued himself to your arse. Where is the delightful Marcus anyway? Let me guess… under the patio? Did you finally do it, love? Like we talked about?”
She’s so loud I look around nervously, expecting the MI5 to suddenly storm the place. “Mother!” I hiss.
Liam suddenly snatches his phone out of his jacket pocket and looks at me. “I have to go. Emergency.”
He’s up so fast that the table wobbles and I have to snatch up my drink before it spills.
I’m sure I never heard his phone, but smiling, I nod. “Okay, thank you. Don’t worry, I’ll…get a taxi,” I finish quietly when I realise I’m talking to myself, and the gravel in the carpark sprays the window when Liam speeds off. It must be a really bad emergency.
“So where are you?” Mum asks again.
She was in Amsterdam. Was being the frightening word. My gut sinks when I realise there is no longer static on the line, and there’s no delay to her voice. “Uhh, well, where are you?”
“I’m at the airport, darling. I need you to come get me.”
“What?”
The whole room shifts nervously. Right along with me.
“I’m home!” she squeals.
“But…”
“Oh, I dumped Carl’s tight little ass. He wouldn’t put out. I mean what is that all about. I’m an attractive woman. Who doesn’t want a piece of this…”
“Can’t you just buy a vibrator?” I butt in before she says the ‘P’ word. I’m not a prude, far from it, but there’s something so very wrong hearing the word ‘pussy’ from your mother’s lips. Shudder.
“Oh, they don’t taste the same, Daisy, love.”
A woman to my left gives me a sympathetic look when a broken sob breaks from me.
I stare at the prawn on my plate and sigh. “I’m not at home.” I try to whisper so she doesn’t hear me, but she does.
“Oh? Well, where are you? I’ll come to you.”
Another whimper slides out when I find there’s no wine left in the bottle. A single drop drips into the bottom of my empty glass and I stare at it solemnly.
“I’ll text you the address.”
“See you soon, darling. Oh, and if there’s any good ones under sixty can you slip them my number ready? It’ll be nice to have something hot when I get there.”
“Won’t a cuppa and a curry do?”
“Pfft.”
And she’s gone.
And I so wish I was.
***
“Hmm.” Frazer sighs sleepily when I slide into the bed next to him.
Turning my back on him, I grimace when I feel the tell-tale stirrings in my belly.
I stiffen when his arm slides around my waist and he pulls me back against him. His erection digs into my lower back and my eyes shoot back open.
“I didn’t expect you back. You fall off your bike?”
“Fuck you!” I hiss, scooting forwards again.
He chuckles sleepily, and a soft smile presses my lips with the sound of it.
Dragging me back, he sighs and nuzzles into the back of my neck. “I like this perfume. What is it?”
“It’s Sudocrem.”
“Eh?”
“Got a spot coming.”
A small cough leaves him and I’m sure he’s laughing at me, but then he starts to slide himself up and down my back, his hard cock pushing at the waistband of my bed shorts.
“Are you horny, Frazer?”
“Whatever gave you that impression?”
“The impression of your cock that you’re leaving in my backside.”
A short growl bursts from him. “Ooh, you like ass play?”
“What?”
“You said my cock and your backside in the same sentence. I’m sure that’s permission for anal play.”
Turning over, I narrow my eyes on him. “Don’t push your luck.”
“It’s called a cock, and I love pushing it, love.” He grins when a snigger leaves me. “So I take it your date didn’t go well.”
Shrugging, I shake my head. “I don’t think he liked me very much.”
Frazer appears lost for a moment. “What? How could he not like you?”
“I dunno. How could someone not like this?” I wink playfully.
“Hmm.” Rolling me onto my back, he spreads himself over me, his piercing eyes looking down at me as he sneakily strips me from my shorts. “I’m not sure yet. I think I may need another taster.”
He tastes of cinnamon when his mouth meets mine, and I want to ask him what he’s eaten, but his kiss is so thorough that every thought leaves my mind. His tongue glides between my lips, his kiss deepening as he groans and rubs harder into my belly.
Moving my legs around his body, I slide his boxers down with the heels of my feet and press up against him. “Frazer.”
Foreplay seems to have taken a holiday, because
before I can move, Frazer’s grabbed a condom and is up and inside me, his fierce grunt of pleasure making my back arch.
He’s so much bigger than I’m used to and I can feel him touch every part of me, the angle deepening deliciously when he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder.
Pumping hard, I feel myself move up the bed. Frazer’s moans of approval make me lift into him. He starts to fuck me harder, his whispers in my ear making me hotter and almost begging him for release.
An ache in my gut has me stiffening.
Shit.
I whimper and Frazer seems to think it’s some erotic murmur because he thrusts harder. “Yeah, Daisy. Fuck, can you get any tighter?”
He doesn’t realise that ‘the tighter’ part is me clenching every damn muscle I have to hold in what is so desperate to slip out.
Oh God.
“So tight,” he repeats.
The more he pumps into me the more my orgasm clashes with the wind bubbling in my stomach. I pray. With every bloody part of me.
Another whine leaves me and even I’m not sure if it’s because of nature or the way his cock strokes against something really nice inside me.
“Shit!” I cry out when Frazer grazes my neck with his teeth. My nerves are overloaded with sensations, my body strung on the precipice of a fart and a climax that is hurtling at me with a speed I can’t hold back.
“Daisy!” Frazer shouts, just as he pushes hard and comes with a choked cry.
I want to fist pump the air when I feel the bubble in my stomach move away and allow my orgasm release. Grabbing his arse, I dig my fingers into his firm flesh and soak up the bliss that takes over. It’s so strong that a tear rolls down the side of my face with the force of it.
“Hey,” Frazer whispers, sliding his thumb over the drop to collect it from me.
I shake my head, smiling as I try to gasp for air. “I’m fine. Just came a bit hard.”
Expecting a quip from him, I’m mesmerised by the tender smile that looks back at me. “Where’ve you been hiding, Daisy?” he whispers softly.
I’m not sure I understand him, and unable to answer a question I can’t fathom out, I just shrug.
For a long moment I become lost in his eyes. He’s staring at me, the look on his face making my heart beat faster for some strange reason.
Then blinking, he appears to shake himself and slips out of me. “Great sex, babe,” he quips flippantly as he climbs from the bed.
Something stabs at my chest and I don’t very much like the feel of it. So, just as flippantly, I remark. “Cheers for the orgasm, babe.”
He smirks over his shoulder at me as he walks across the room towards the door. He’s completely naked and I can’t help appreciate the view. He’s hard in all the right places.
Opening the door as he looks at me, he winks, “Let me get rid of this condom and I’m more than willing to make you come in my mouth.”
My jaw drops.
But it isn’t at his offer. It’s the sight of my mother, stood in the doorway, her eyes very firmly fixed on Frazer’s semi-hard cock.
“Get yourself a vibrator, you told me,” she utters as her eyes turn to me. “If they come in this flavour I’ll buy a couple.”
Chapter Thirteen
Frazer
I’m not in the best of moods. Be warned.
A strange twitch has taken residence in my right eyeball. My back aches after a night on a sofa that’s older than this goddam village, and, after a hope on the horizon that maybe Shirley, Daisy’s mum, can offer up some decent grub, that too has swiftly gone down the drain with my mood.
My left eye shudders in sympathy with its partner when Shirley places the plate in front of me. “Lovely.”
I’ve lived through many things, some life-threatening. I have abseiled down the side of a block of flats, (long story, just remember to ask your next conquest with 34DD’s if she’s married) I have driven over 120mph on the M1 when my best mate took ill after a toad slipped into his pint of Strongbow, and, quite shockingly, have had a 12inch sawn-off stuck in my face (that’s a story for another day) but not once, not once in my adventurous life have I ever been faced with green scrambled eggs.
Both Daisy and I stare at the food. There’s a faint smell of something dodgy in the air. Then again, that could be Daisy. After her mother rudely interrupted our night of fun, Daisy then slipped one out that made mine smell like something from the Chelsea Flower Show.
“What is it?” Daisy asks her mother, moving a bit of the green heap to the side to peer underneath.
“It’s a special of mine.”
Really?
Daisy nods sombrely and swallows. “Okay.”
“I thought I’d call it A’ La’ Cockup,” Shirley declares proudly as she takes her chair between me and Daisy.
“A’ La’ Cockup,” Daisy repeats slowly. “Perfect name.”
“Well, chop, chop!” Shirley claps, taking a mound of ‘egg’ and shovelling it into her mouth. “We have a busy day ahead, darling.”
Like a deer caught in the headlights, sheer panic leaps into Daisy’s eyes. “What?”
Giving up on the ‘eggs’, I snatch up a piece of toast and settle back into my chair.
I like Daisy; she’s fun, pretty - well maybe a hell of a lot pretty – and adventurous. She’s also as mad as a March hare, and I enjoy the banter with her. So seeing the look of complete horror on her face with her mother’s announcement entertains me more than it should.
Noticing my smug smirk, she narrows her eyes on me before turning back to Shirley. “I’m busy today, Mum.”
“Well what are you up to? I’ll just come and keep you company with whatever you’re doing.”
I bite off another piece of toast and look to Daisy.
“Well, actually, I was going to keep Frazer company…”
I cough on a piece of toast that seems to have lodged itself in my throat.
“…He’s an actor. So I was going to watch him…”
“You can’t!” I shake my head so hard I’m fearful of the way my brain rattles against my skull.
Ignoring me, she continues and claps her hands. “Perfect day out, Mum.”
Shirley nods then looks to me. “An actor, huh?” I’m not sure I like the way her eyes glisten. “There’s nothing sexier than an actor. I dated an actor once…”
Shit!
“He was so much fun. He liked to dress up as R2D2 and would make those funny beeping sounds when I’d suck on his…”
“Mother!”
“Antenna, Daisy. Christ, what’s wrong with you? Anyone would think you have sex on the brain!”
“Yes, Daisy! Too much sex makes you go blind!” I smirk.
She shivers, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if she’s cold. Come to think of it, it is a bit chilly in here. “It also makes your dick fall off!” she snaps. “Or that could just be me with a knife in my hand!”
Shirley reaches out and pats Daisy’s hand. “Aww, darling, you should have said if you’re premenstrual.”
I can’t hide the snigger and cover it up with a cough as I get up and place my cup on the side.
Daisy closes her eyes then shivers. “Bloody hell it’s cold in here.”
“Mmm,” I mumble, checking the thermostat. It’s up high enough so I tap at the boiler, peering through the little window for any signs of life. Nothing. “God damn.”
Daisy’s face appears over my shoulder. The subtle scent of her perfume, this time real perfume, invades my senses. She’s so close I can feel her breasts press against my back and her breath on my ear, the soft sound stupidly making my dick think it’s time to play. I can’t quite get what it is about her that makes me react like I do, and I’m not entirely sure if I loathe it or love it.
“Is it buggered?”
Her eyes slide to mine and the swirl of blue that looks back at me mesmerises me. Her gaze locks with mine and for a minute we just stand, pressed together, staring at each other. But then, quickly, she s
wallows and stands back.
Biting into my bottom lip, I nod. “Uhh, yeah, looks like it. I’ll get Henry up.”
“Henry?”
“He’s the village handyman.”
“Ahh.” Daisy smiles.
“Under sixty?” Shirley asks.
***
I’m unsure how Daisy and her mother managed to wangle their way into the pub during filming, but when I spot Shirley giggling, her long fingers frequently touching Boris’ arm – Boris is one of the cameramen – after filming is wrapped up for the day, it all makes sense. I’m surprised by Shirley; she is nothing like Daisy at all, apart from looks. They both have blonde hair – Daisy’s curls shorter than her mum’s– and they both have blue eyes, and a small, tilted nose.
I’ve noticed Daisy slipping her gaze my way every time mine has found hers, and for some strange reason it has caused me to lose my train of thought more often than not. I need to focus, get into the zone, but I’m finding it more and more difficult.
My mouth waters with the sight of her, the memory of how she tastes on my tongue making my dick press against my jeans. And when Troy, who plays the part of the lead’s best friend, whispers something in her ear and Daisy laughs, slapping his arm playfully, I’m shocked by the feral growl that slips from me.
“You okay?” Tiffany asks, the high-pitched tone of her voice making my teeth vibrate.
I can’t stand Tiffany, she’s too self-centred and annoying, but when Daisy’s eyes move to me, her pretty blues darkening when she notices Tiffany practically rubbing up and down me, I can’t help but use her in my personal battle with Daisy. It shouldn’t bother me who Daisy flirts with, I couldn’t care less – or that’s what I keep telling myself – so why I bring out the charm with Tiffany is beyond me.
“Not really, Tiff.” I roll my head around my shoulders, pulling a false face of pain. “Tight muscles. Stress I guess.”
“Oh, hun,” she purrs. And then she moves behind me, as I knew she would.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she starts a relentless massage that has me wincing in pain every time her long claws puncture my skin. What is it with chicks and their dagger nails?
“Oooh, Tiff,” I murmur, rolling my eyes as if in sheer pleasure. “You have the magic touch, babe.”
The Bunk Up (The Village People Book 1) Page 8