‘Well, maybe I could answer that if I’d slept with someone else to compare,’ I sniped, trying to shake off his grasp.
‘Don’t make me feel worse than I already do, pumpkin. You know how much I love you, I hate that I’m letting you down. I’m doing everything I know, I’ve even taken tips off Rampant Roger to try and make it better for you.’
‘You have?’ I couldn’t help a small giggle escaping my lips. His best friend Roger was well known as a serial shagger. He didn’t have Brady’s good looks, but what he lacked for in that department, he more than made up for with the gift of the gab and a gym toned body. He could smooth talk his way into practically any woman’s bed. He’d even slept with my sister, Mandy, who’d scored him a 10 out of 10 and she wasn’t exactly inexperienced herself. ‘So that’s why you suddenly mastered the art of finger fucking and oral?’
‘Yes,’ he chuckled. I smiled, there had been a noticeable improvement over the last couple of years, but obviously Roger’s tips when it came to the act itself were lost in translation. Our lovemaking was tender, gentle and romantic. Which was all well and good I guess, but it was a far cry from the screaming, sweaty, sheet clawing fucking Mandy had told me about. Not to mention the multiple orgasms she’d detailed. God, I’d just be happy to have one a month during penetration, let alone multiple ones. ‘I just need more tips for when I’m inside you, from him and you. You need to tell me what’s missing, how I can get you there?’
‘I don’t know, Brady,’ I moaned, frustration quickly replacing the small moment of merriment. ‘How can I tell you when no one else has ever tried, when I don’t even know what’s missing?’
‘Come on, I think we both need a stiff drink and you need to be honest with me, no matter how much you think it might hurt me. Just like my honesty has hurt you. It wasn’t intentional, that wasn’t my aim. I really thought that you’d … God, I’m so sorry.’
‘I know,’ I choked, losing the battle to contain my tears. Fat pools of stinging water spilled over my lashes and rolled down my cheeks. He slowly turned me around, wincing as he saw my lower lip wobbling. I stood looking at him awkwardly. I felt like I was in a rough ocean, like I was drowning. Brady was the one who always made me feel safe and loved. Part of me wanted him to hold me tightly, to reassure me that in spite of this we were meant to be, that we could be happy as husband and wife. Part of me felt like he was the one holding my head under water, that I needed to break free and swim as far from him as possible.
‘Let’s go and get that drink,’ he said softly, reaching up and wiping under my eyes with his thumbs.
‘Ok.’ I nodded. He took my hand as he led me downstairs, into the kitchen diner and helped me up onto one of the island bar stools. I cast sly glances at him as he busied himself, grabbing a bottle of brandy to tip a large measure into two mugs of hot chocolate for us, his face screwed up in concentration and worry. He was still Brady. Still the man I’d loved for eleven years. The man I knew would never intentionally hurt me. I could only imagine how he was feeling, knowing he’d done what I hadn’t been able to bring myself to do. God if he accidently elbowed me in the night he was upset enough, you’d think he’d slashed the throat of a puppy. His love for me wasn’t in question, even after what he’d done. In a way mine for him wasn’t either. Eleven years with your best friend meant that regardless of any hurt or upset, those feelings didn’t just go away in the blink of an eye. No, my love for him wasn’t in doubt, but was I in love with him? Were my feelings the sort you’d have for a close friend or relative, rather than the love of your life? Suddenly I had no idea. It was seriously shitty timing to be questioning that fact.
‘You’re very quiet,’ he observed as he pushed my mug over to me and sat opposite me cradling his. I bit my lip and nodded as we stared at each other. ‘Are you thinking of calling the wedding off?’
‘Brady, God I … my feelings for you haven’t changed. Yes I’m upset, but you didn’t do anything that we didn’t agree to. I just wish you’d never told me, I’d have been better off not knowing, nothing would have changed.’
‘Exactly, pumpkin,’ he nodded, shuddering as he swallowed a mouthful of his drink. I could smell the alcohol wafting up from mine and decided I needed some too. ‘Nothing would have changed. We’d have got married, you’d be pretending you were happy with our sex life. I’d always be wondering if you’d slept with someone else, the jealously eating me up inside. Who knows how that would have affected us. I can’t bear to see another man look at you, let alone the thought of …’ he shook his head as I eyed him over the rim of my mug, relishing the heat and burn as I swallowed. I set it down and licked my lips, trying to think how to respond.
‘Our sex life isn’t awful, Brady. We’re active, I enjoy kissing and touching you, doing things to you and you to me, it’s just … please don’t take this the wrong way, it’s not passionate. There’s no need for each other. We’ve never ripped each other’s clothes off, or gone at it on the kitchen counter, or the lounge floor. We’ve never role played or worn outfits to get each other excited. I just feel like it’s routine. A very nice routine, but not … mind blowing.’
‘And you’ve never come during penetration?’ he enquired, trying to mask his hurt expression. I took a deep breath. There was no point lying now.
‘No. Don’t you just wonder if we should want more? We should expect … more?’
‘I didn’t until last week. Then when I tried, it was cold and meaningless and I even faked coming. I thought she came, but maybe she was faking it too. All I know is that she wasn’t you, pumpkin. Other than hating the fact that I’m obviously letting you down, I have no complaints from my end. You look sexy to me in that old t-shirt you wear to bed, or when you’re doing the housework in your scruffs. I don’t need you to change, because I’m happy. I’m the one who needs to change to make you happy.’
‘But if you need to change, then surely that’s not fair either? We shouldn’t need to change to make each other happy, Brady, or one of us will get resentful trying to be something we’re not.’
‘But you’re suggesting that we need to try spicing things up, that’s changing. We’ve been together eleven years and we’ve never done anything like that. Maybe it’s just not in our nature to be like that,’ he pointed out. I drank some more hot chocolate. He had a point. Surely if there was a sexual tigress inside me wanting to burst out, it would have happened by now. Eleven years was a long time to mask an inherent side of your nature. ‘Do you feel differently about me now you know? Don’t you love me anymore?’ he asked quietly.
‘Brady!’ I scolded. ‘Of course I love you, we’ve been together too long for me to change my feelings over … something we both agreed to do. I’m just worried, now that you’re sure, you’ve experienced sex with someone else and you’re still committed to getting married and spending the rest of your life with me. What if I get resentful? What if one day I suddenly hate that you got to try that and I didn’t? What if I never come when you’re inside me, no matter what tips you get or videos you watch? I don’t want to end up blaming you for something I feel I’m missing in my life.’
‘So what are you saying? You want to have sex with someone else too, before you make your mind up about the wedding? It’s in less than forty eight hours, Lisa.’
‘You think I don’t know that? God, Brady, less than an hour ago everything was clear. We loved each other, neither of us had slept with anyone else, we were going to make it work and then you have to go and tell me!’ I bit, feeling an unexpected wave of anger building inside me.
‘You asked! You’d have preferred I lied?’
‘I’d have preferred you not to have slept with her, but I can’t even complain about that, because I told you it was ok. Well I just realised that it’s not ok. I hate it.’ I downed the remains of my drink, choking as the fumes of the brandy caught in the back of my throat.
‘Lisa,’ he groaned, putting his drink down and shaking his head. ‘Tell me what to do? I don’
t know how to make this better.’
‘Neither do I,’ I moaned, wiping another set of tears from under my eyes. If we were an ordinary couple I’d probably be packing my cases right now and telling him to go to hell. But we weren’t. He was my best friend, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it, no matter how much I’d love to come during sex, or have him desire me the way I’d dreamed of. I guess we’d always been quite shy when it came to sex, learning as we went. It’s just the more my knowledge of how other relationships were, the more I wanted him to crave me. To take charge in a masculine and aggressive way. To own me. I mean, this was the closest we’d ever come to fighting and even this wasn’t full of passion. But was that more important than everything else we had?
‘Would it help if you … if you had sex with someone else too?’ he whispered, his voice trembling as he made the offer. ‘It might make you feel better and resolve any unanswered questions.’
‘But that would hurt you,’ I sniffed, wiping my eyes again as I looked up at him amazed.
‘No more than I’ve hurt you. At least you’d know, we’d both know.’
‘So what? I’m supposed to just go out there and find a guy to sleep with before 3 p.m. on Saturday, then make up my mind whether I want to walk up the aisle?’
‘Well it’s not like we have many other options is it? If you don’t and you marry me, you’ll always wonder “what if?” If you do and it’s not great, I’ll still be waiting to spend the rest of my life with you.’
‘But what if ….’ I closed my eyes, unable to say it, let alone think it.
‘What if it was amazing?’ he offered. ‘Then you’d have a decision to make and if that didn’t include becoming my wife then I’d have to accept that. I had the chance to answer any unresolved fears, why shouldn’t you?’
‘See this,’ I suggested, gesturing between us. ‘This isn’t normal! Normal couples don’t sit at the kitchen island giving each other permission to go and fuck someone else a day or so before their wedding day.’
‘Maybe not, but I bet “normal couples” don’t have the kind of emotional bond and friendship that we do. I want you to be happy, Lisa. That’s all I’ve ever wanted and if that means a life without me in it, then so be it. It’s going to hurt like hell, but not as much as knowing I’ve forced you into something that’s always going to be lacking for you.’
‘I’m not just going to trawl London tomorrow night trying to find a guy to have sex with, to decide if I’m getting married the next day, Brady,’ I shot back. As I stood up, the metal tips of the stool scraped on the slate floor, putting my teeth on edge.
‘So how about I book someone for you? Didn’t you say Mandy’s friend had hired a male escort for the night once and he’d blown her mind? If you’re going to have sex with someone else, I’d rather it was with someone who knew what he was doing and wasn’t going to hurt you.’
‘O my God! A prostitute? You want me to fuck a male prostitute now? I can’t believe this,’ I uttered.
‘Of course I don’t,’ he moaned, his forehead furrowing. ‘But if you’re going to have sex, I’d rather it was in a controlled manner, so I know that you’re safe.’
‘Well book me a man whore then and come and sit and watch,’ I uttered, throwing my hands in the air before applying them firmly to my hips in disapproval. ‘In fact you can video it too, just in case it gives you any pointers. Hey, bring Rampant Roger while you’re at it, let him take a turn on me. After all, maybe there’s something wrong with me, maybe I’m just not wired to come with a cock inside me and from the sounds of it Roger’s pretty experienced. If a prostitute and Roger can’t get me off, then we’re all set, wedding’s back on!’ I glared at him as my heart raced. This was the closest we’d ever come to falling out and it made me feel light headed.
‘Don’t be pedantic. I’m trying to help.’
‘Well you’re not. You can’t just spring something on me, something I said I never wanted to know about if it happened, then expect me to deal with it while a clock’s counting. Or whore me out to make yourself feel better. If I was going to do it, it would have to be because it was for me, to reassure myself, not to even the score so it lessened any guilt you might be feeling. I feel tired, stressed and emotional. I think I need to go to bed before I say anything I might regret. I need some time to process this, Brady, without you trying to throw solutions at me.’
‘Come on then, let’s go back to bed. Maybe after a good night’s sleep we’ll wake up with fresh perspective and can decide what to do then.’ He reached over and took my empty mug. I knew he’d want to wash them both up before we headed up. He couldn’t stand leaving dirty things until the morning.
I left him to it, brushed my teeth again and curled up in bed, willing myself to fall asleep before he came up the stairs. I was so confused, I had no idea what I was going to do. If it wasn’t so late I’d be ringing my sister, but that was unfair. We were spending the day together tomorrow, we could talk then. I doubted it would make any difference financially if I backed out of the wedding a day before, or a minute before. I needed to sleep now and I could worry about how I felt tomorrow. Mandy was always full of great advice. She was the wild one of the two of us. She’d experienced so much more. She’d know what to say to make me feel better, to help me decide what to do. I quickly closed my eyes as I heard Brady coming up. I was still angry and I had no right to be, it wasn’t his fault. It was mine, for agreeing to the stupid bloody pact in the first place. I felt the bed sink as he got in beside me and moved into his usual position, spooning behind me with an arm over my waist. I felt tears prickling at my eyes. If we didn’t get married, this would be our last night together in our bed. Our last night together forever. As angry as I was over this whole fucked up situation, that terrified me. He was my life. We’d been each other’s lives for so long now. I spun around and buried my face in his chest as I started to sob. Gut wrenching tears of hurt and frustration that made my body shake. I was thankful that after eleven years he knew me well enough to just hold me, stroke and kiss my hair and say no more.
Maserati
Brady
I felt shattered. I’d stayed awake most of the night to watch over her. She’d cried for nearly an hour as I’d held her. A whole hour of my heart breaking for what I’d done to her. For what she was potentially going to do to me. When she’d finally fallen asleep in my arms, I hadn’t wanted to go to sleep. What if she decided not to marry me on Saturday? It could have been the last time I ever got to hold her, to watch her sleeping, or to wake up with her. To spend all of my free time with her.
To spend the rest of my life with her.
I had to fight back my own tears at the thought of it. Especially when the sun had risen and I checked the clock. Five minutes until the alarm went off. I needed longer. I needed forever. It had been love at first sight for me, that day I’d seen her in the college canteen. Her dark brown hair shining under the spotlights, those reflective mocha eyes that spoke a thousand words as I’d stared at them. Her smile was infectious and her laughter? God I loved to hear her laugh.
I just loved everything about her.
When I’d asked her out and she’d said yes it had made me so happy. We’d fallen into a comfortable relationship immediately. It was as if we’d been soulmates in a previous life. Everything was so easy and natural. I felt so bad that sexually I was disappointing her. Roger had told me I needed to fuck more women, to get more experience, but surely eleven years of regular sex with one woman was experience enough. If I couldn’t make her come when I was inside her now, I doubted I ever would, unless I used some of the gadgets Roger had shown me on some sex toy website. I wasn’t sure I could handle wearing a vibrating cock ring every time we had sex, but by not doing it I wasn’t giving Lisa what she needed. Maybe she was right, maybe I needed to try and be more adventurous and spontaneous for her. We did pretty much have a routine down pat, which was a hell of a lot better than the sex I’d had with that blonde the other week.
I couldn’t even bring myself to kiss her on the mouth. I’d felt so guilty while I was with her, that I’d been thankful when after a few minutes she started shaking and moaning, her eyes glazing over. Either she was super responsive or faking it. Either way I was still the one with the problem. I kissed Lisa’s forehead as the alarm went off and closed my eyes, inhaling her scent deeply. Please God, don’t let this be the last time I wake up with her, I prayed silently.
‘Morning,’ I whispered, as she opened her eyes. I grimaced to see her eyelids were still swollen from crying last night.
‘Morning,’ she replied, the right hand corner of her mouth lifting, giving me one of her subdued half-smiles. I’d give anything to see her full smile again, for those defeated brown eyes to have some life back in them.
‘Stay in bed. I’ll go and get you an ice pack for your eyes and a coffee. Once I’m showered I’ll bring you breakfast in bed and pack while you get ready. That’s if you’re still …’ I blew out and shrugged my shoulders, not daring to ask any question that might force her into a decision before she was ready.
‘Sounds great,’ she nodded. ‘You’re so thoughtful.’
‘Just trying to make up for where I’m lacking in other areas, pumpkin. I’ll never stop trying to make you happy.’ I kissed her forehead again, then reluctantly let her go and headed to the en-suite to wash my hands and face with cold water, to wake myself up properly. After positioning a wrapped ice pack over her eyes, I headed down again to make her a full English, her favourite. Sausage, crispy bacon, fried egg, mushrooms and white toast with butter. Nothing but the best for my girl. I just hoped she’d still be my girl come Saturday. Even better, that she’d be my wife.
We stood outside The Domville, the porters rushing forward to grab her suitcases off me and her wedding dress, hidden from my eyes in its dust cover, loading them up onto the gold trolley. We both sighed as we looked at each other, not wanting to say goodbye.
The Domville 2 (The Domville #2) Page 2