Hetty: An Angel Avenue Spin-Off

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  “If you’ve never practised cunnilingus before, I’m a monkey’s whatsit.”

  He pops his head up. “Wha– How did– Err–”

  “Ah, so…”

  He flares red, guilty as sin. “I don’t… I didn’t want to upset you last night. I am terrified this will all go wrong, I just want to please you.”

  The sadist in me loves how much he’s squirming right now, but my brain says he shouldn’t have lied to me, even about something so stupid.

  “It’s okay, Joe.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And were you telling the truth last night? Have you… you know? Never let a guy go down on you?”

  “No. I barely remember most of their names. I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

  “Am I your boyfriend?” He grins, looking oh so bloody cocky.

  “I think if you were my boyfriend you’d be busier than you look right now.”

  He cracks a smile before licking me a couple of times – almost killing me.

  He crawls back up my body and I’m shaking uncontrollably, so ready to come.

  Nudging himself between my legs, I hold his cheeks in my hands as he positions himself and pushes smoothly and slowly into me.

  “Ah… ohhh…”

  “Steady,” he asks, “stay with me. I’m coming right behind you. I’m desperate to come inside your body, claim what’s mine.”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  He pushes my arms above my head, tightening his fingers through mine.

  He toys with my mouth for a moment, tugging gently, teasing. I can feel him throbbing inside me, hot and desperate. I angle my mouth across his and start to feast on him. As I do this he rocks in and out of me, building a steady rhythm, something for me to concentrate on.

  He smiles against my mouth, whispering, “You’re drenching me, baby. Don’t stop.”

  “Keep kissing me, your kisses make me so wet.”

  “Ah, Henrietta.”

  I love it when he says my name. Not that I like my name. There’s just something about the way Joe Jones says my name.

  I cross my arms over the back of his head as his thrusts speed up and we both groan our pleasure, loud and carefree. We’ve got our own part of the hotel here, cordoned off from everyone else. It’s just us in our hideaway.

  His tongue laps at my breasts between pants of his breath. Lifting one of my legs over his shoulder, we both feel him sink deeper and tighter, brushing all those sensitive inner muscles of mine. I grasp my breasts and gasp for air, my cries high-pitch, begging. Eyes shut, I arch off the bed and start to come, the orgasm so powerful I push him out.

  I feel him coat my sex and lower stomach, some on my thighs. I watch through the haze of lust as he pumps out a few last drops onto my body.

  He throws himself down beside me, tugging me onto his chest, his arms squishing me to his body.

  “We’re those people who’ll love a lifetime,” he says, breathless, “because it happened just like that, and it makes sense, and we’ll stay together for the rest of our lives, because we’re those people you hear about. And now we know true love really does exist.”

  I bury my face in his chest, so fiercely.

  He has no idea how much I would like to believe that. If only I did.

  I’M dozing but I know something’s different. My eyes flicker open and I realise in the darkened room, there’s a light flashing. I spot his phone on his bedside, all lit up. It stops, then flashes again.

  I’m almost falling back to sleep when a vibrating in my bag on the floor makes me move. I grab the bag, pace to the bathroom and shut the door. I don’t think Joe’s stirring, he’s snoring even now. I fish my phone out and am not surprised by the name I see on the screen.

  “Yes,” I answer, feeling and sounding groggy.

  “Hetty, is everything okay?” Warrick asks.

  I check the time on the screen. It reads just after ten. “Shouldn’t it be?”

  “Joe was meant to come home tonight.”

  “I think his phone’s been on silent, I thought he would tell you we’re at the seaside tonight.”

  “Seaside?”

  “Yeah, we came up the coast. We’ve had a whale of a time, excuse the pun.”

  “I see. Well, I’m surprised.”

  “Why?” I sound suspicious.

  “He hasn’t been out in months as far as I know.”

  “Oh…?”

  “Hetty?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you asked him about his mum yet?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “That it’s too horrible to talk about. However, I think he will eventually.”

  “Okay.” He pauses and some background noise lets me know he’s having a quick word with Jules, probably. “You still there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Jules asks if you can both come for Sunday roast tomorrow, if you’re back?”

  “I don’t know… it’s soon… it’s a bit…”

  “We’d love you here, Ruby’s coming with Vernon and Judy.”

  It does sound tempting, but… this is all so sudden.

  “You’re being nice.”

  “Well, Jules has calmed me down a lot. You are both very bright people. I worry, that’s all.”

  “I understand.”

  “So, you’ll come?”

  “I’ll ask Joe in the morning. He’s sleeping now. I’ll text you if he says yes, okay?”

  “Okay, good enough.”

  There’s a pause.

  “Warrick?”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you know he doesn’t drink?”

  “What?”

  “Won’t touch a drop, not a drop mate. I’m driving and everything and he won’t even take a taste, not a taste. He won’t drink around me. Has he drank around you?”

  “No. I mean, I didn’t notice… I mean… Oh.”

  “I’m taking good care of him, okay?”

  “Okay.” I think I hear him nodding, unless that’s his hair brushing the receiver.

  “Hopefully see you tomorrow.”

  “Take care, Hetty.”

  “Will do.”

  We hang up and I decide I may as well pee while I’m here.

  I get back to bed and slide under the covers.

  “Who was that?” he mumbles into the pillow.

  “Your dad, lover.”

  “What’s he want?”

  “Us to go round for Sunday roast.”

  “What’d ya say?”

  “Told him I’d ask you.”

  He pulls me into him. “We’ll decide in the morning, Het.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you, too…”

  We drift, the day having exhausted us.

  I AWAKE TO the sensation of a finger between my legs. Before I’ve even opened my eyes I know I’m wet and hot and I know he’s been playing with me for a while as I’ve been asleep.

  “Good morning,” he says, baring his teeth against my shoulder, laid behind me on his side.

  Opening my legs wider, he slips a finger inside me and I crane my neck back, his lips driving kisses up and down my throat. Lips parched, I don’t care, I let him carry on pleasuring me.

  I ride his finger when he finds my sensitive spot and his thumb brushes my clit every time I rock back and forth.

  “I’m coming, don’t stop… don’t…”

  I’m overtaken by a combined rush of relief and elation. I cramp around him and cry out. He tucks himself up behind me, levering my leg to spread me open. When he pushes inside me it’s so sensitive, I bite down on my lip. His hand holding my hip tight, his other’s wrapped underneath me, across my tits.

  He grinds against me only three or four times before he’s pumping his semen into me, my relief unbelievable when he does. I’m far too raw for a thorough fucking this morning.

  “It’s too naughty doing you from behind, I could
hardly contain myself,” he gasps, catching his breath.

  I giggle, my hand reaching back to dig some nails into his solid buttock. “It’s okay.”

  “I could go again in a minute,” he suggests, turning my body to more or less face his.

  He’s so handsome, I could cry, and he’s got that hopeful, mischievous look in his eye.

  “Stud, I’m hungry and sore down there.” I pout but he frowns.

  “Het, I want to fuck you all the bloody time. I can’t help it.”

  I laugh, looping my arms around his neck. “I’m not a machine. I know you are, but I’m not.”

  He growls. “Come here.”

  I rise up over him and lie on top of him, our legs tangled, hearts pushed together.

  “Kiss me, Het.”

  “Why?” I grin.

  He smoothes his hands over and around my bottom. “I asked.”

  I look at his plump, succulent mouth and can’t resist. He’s everything.

  Tugging on his decadent hair with my fingers, I slide my lips across his and welcome his tongue into my mouth. When I pull back, I see lust pouring from his eyes.

  “I know what you’re up to, Jones.”

  “What?” He feigns innocence, like he’s got no idea.

  “You know what kissing does to me.”

  “Do I now?”

  Within a flash, I’m on my back, squealing with giggles and spreading my legs around his hips. He glides into me and while he does, I make a meal of his neck and shoulders, his arms and wrists.

  “Still love me, Het?” he asks as he starts moving faster, making me want to scream.

  “No, I hate you!”

  “That’s my girl.”

  I scratch my nails down his back and almost die when he gives me my second orgasm of the morning.

  HE offered to drive us home so I’m letting him. It’s raining on the Moors as we snake back down into East Yorkshire and I’m glad he’s at the wheel and not me.

  “You’re pretty good for a nineteen year old. Am I to take it there have been many other lovers prior to me?”

  He swerves in the road at my assumption. “I’m good at what?” He gives me a filthy look, but I know he swerved then because he knows I know he used to be an absolute slut.

  “Why, Joe? Just tell me why and I’ll drop it.”

  I study his profile carefully as he picks his answer. He seems taken aback.

  “Cause I’m horny and like women?”

  “Not self-destructing?”

  “Nah, though the ’rents reckon so.”

  “Jules told me you were shagging early.”

  He appears horrified. “She’s going to have to keep her gob to herself now we’re together.”

  “Jules has never been good at keeping it schtum.”

  “They both worry way too much.”

  “Do they?”

  I notice I’ve hit a nerve when he doesn’t give me a reply, a tendon in his neck twitching.

  “I’m not perfect but then who is.”

  “That’s not what I mean Joe and you know it. And by the way, from where I’m seated, all I’m seeing is perfection.”

  He guffaws. “Can I get a word in edgeways?”

  “No, I’m a motor mouth, you should know this by now.”

  He chuckles again, more nervous this time. “So I don’t go get shit-faced with my friends, so what?”

  “You prefer hiding in your bedroom, then? Was that how you got seven A star’s, two A’s and that one B which was two marks off an A…”

  He looks mortified, again.

  “She even blabs about the good stuff. Take it up with her.”

  “The trouble with Dad and Jules is that they’re of a different generation where sex was like something to feel guilty about. It can just be enjoyed between friends. Not that you and I are… but you know what I mean.” He wipes invisible sweat from his forehead, still trying to make sure he says and does all the right stuff.

  I nod, understanding him. However, now he needs to understand me.

  “Well I didn’t start as young as you but all the times I’ve been with random guys, I did it to self-destruct. I came sometimes but that wasn’t the main aim. So you’re going to have to help me with that.”

  Tension sets in his features, his face sullen. “What? I mean… What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll try to break us, it’s going to happen.”

  He drives in silence for ages until there’s a place to pull over. We skid as we brake to a halt.

  “What are you talking about? Are you trying to break my concentration and get us killed?”

  I look him in the eye. “It’s good that we’re not both self-destructive, that means it could work. But I will try to break us and you will have to stop me. It’s in my DNA, I’m sorry.”

  He hangs his head against the steering wheel. “If anyone touches you, I’ll kill them, do you hear me? I’ll kill them and then I’ll go to prison. Do you want that?”

  He glances at me and I reply, “I’m clever, I’ll think of other ways.”

  He squints. “Is this a test, or something? Are you fucking with my mind on purpose?”

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Joe. I’m not kidding or testing you. I’m just warning you, I will try to fuck this up. Last year I was seeing a perfectly good guy and I fucked it up on purpose, it’s what I do.”

  “What was his name?” he sort of grunts.

  “He’s called Nate. He’s at Hull, training to be a doctor. I told him the same things I’m telling you. He wouldn’t sleep with me until he was sure he’d reformed me, hence we didn’t sleep together, hence why I sabotaged the bond we were building.”

  “HET!” he shouts, tugging at his hair. “The man was a fucking sap! How could he stand not lying next to you, holding you? Idiot.”

  I burst out laughing. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s got a bunch of teddies he cuddles instead.”

  Joe laughs, a laugh so much like Warrick’s.

  He turns to me, placing his hand on my cheek. “I’ve been putting it about but I’m not that guy, Het. You know I’m not that guy and you bloody well know I’m gonna be up your arse all the time, wanting to spend every spare second with you.”

  “I’m clever, Joe. I’ll do it without even thinking. It’s subconscious. I will try to destroy this. I’m just warning you.” The were others besides Nate but for now I’ll just provide him as an example.

  He looks down his nose at me. “Well I’m cleverer. And taller.”

  He pulls back into the road, looking as though he’s confident he can keep me – that nothing will go wrong.

  “Do you want to know the exact moment I realised I loved you?” he asks, sounding more resolute than ever.

  “If you like…”

  “You were at my dad’s birthday party last year and you were talking with Ruby in a corner. She was telling you all about her trouble conceiving and all you did was listen and hold her hand. All your words just then were bollocks, Het. You’re the best woman I know. Selfless and funny and now I’ve seen your room, so fucking talented. You just need to let me love you and if you don’t, you’re gonna be responsible for the fattest blue balls in history, all right?”

  I cackle. “All right.”

  He reaches across the handbrake and squeezes my thigh. “Tell me you love me, woman.”

  “I love you, man.”

  “I love you, woman. Now, put the radio on. I’m sick of hearing how badly your car takes corners. Seriously!”

  “Oi, don’t be taking it out on the car now.”

  He grumbles something under his breath but I ignore it. When I don’t bite, I can tell he’s thinking of something else to say.

  “Ah, god. Just come out with it before your head explodes,” I demand, lifting my feet to the seat and putting my arms around my legs.

  “Why have you destroyed your hair?”

  “Destroyed? That’s a nice way of putting it. HA!”

  He chuckles. “Well…” />
  “If you’d known me as a teenager, I used to have a different do every week, mostly with different bits shaved off. I started growing it to a more conservative length when I decided the police was gonna be my thing. Now it’s not my thing, well… I can bloody well get as many tats as I want and dye it as many times as I want.”

  I don’t have any tats, and really, I don’t want any. Never say never though…

  “And the blue is not anything, you know, subconscious…?”

  “I’m not saying another word you freaking psychology person, you.”

  “Ah come on, you gotta admit…”

  I show him a zip being pulled across my mouth.

  I remain tight-lipped the rest of the journey while he drives, his face set in stony resolution. I will not have him psychoanalysing me this early on in our relationship.

  And the blue doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a fashion statement.

  WHEN we arrive at the Jones’s, I wonder why Joe’s walking straight in without knocking or using a key, when suddenly I remember he lives here. It’s his father’s house…

  The scent of roast beef hits us as soon as we’re indoors. We can hear laughter and voices coming from the kitchen and dining room. I know how good a cook Jules is because I’ve dined here twice before. Once when Warrick got me over to offer me the assistant manager job at the community centre, and the second time was Christmas just gone when John and Carol were away for the holidays and Liza seemed too stressed to remember I had nowhere to go on Christmas day. A last-minute Christmas Eve invite saved me and that was the first time Joe and me ever really talked. I remember it now…

  He only emerged that day when it was time to eat. That was around two in the afternoon if I remember right. I didn’t know if he’d been down to open his presents. It didn’t look like he had because there was still one, small pile under the tree – yet to be unwrapped. I often overheard Warrick on the phone to a manic Jules, who was worried about her grieving stepson spending too much time in his room.

  When he arrived downstairs and realised I was joining them for dinner, he seemed to be full of surprise and sudden jollity. Across the dinner table I kept catching his eye, wondering if I had gravy on my chin. Warrick and Jules were too wrapped up in trying to get food in their twin sons’ mouths instead of the contents of the Christmas crackers (including the bit that creates the bang).