“I like the purple,” he managed.
I gave him both of the corsets while reaching around to unhook my bra. When I covered myself with an arm, he brushed it away, his fingers just catching the underside of my breasts. When I met his eyes in the almost-dark, a sigh escaped.
He wrapped the cold taffeta around me, letting the boning find its place on the curve of my hips and peaks of my nipples. Then he tugged it tight and I gasped and giggled, reaching back to swat at his hands.
“I suppose the tighter this is, the bigger your cleavage will be,” he said.
“That’s about right…although too tight, and I will be corpsage.”
“Yummy.”
The laces licked my skin as he swished them about, pulling them loose and tightening them in sharp bursts. The beginnings of a particularly masochistic orgasm stirred between my thighs, and I sighed in mourning–it wouldn’t see the light of day.
I backed into him and we stood silently for a moment, his hands caressing my hips, his breath pouring down over my bare shoulders. I longed to feel a sucking kiss at the nape of my neck, to moan as his teeth caught my skin, but...nothing.
“I think we need to be a little stricter with the no touching thing,” he said gruffly, stepping away.
I turned to pout at him. “Meanie.”
“Imagine what it will be like though,” he murmured, “when we can.”
I stamped my foot in a mock tantrum. “I suppose I’ll have to.” I picked up my makeup bag. “As erotic as you dressing me was, I’d rather apply my own lipstick, if that’s okay.”
He busied himself in the wardrobe. “Be my guest. My only experience with makeup application was on school trips–”
“Oh? What kind of trips were they, then?”
“Shush, you. I meant when you wait for your mates to fall asleep on the coach and write on their foreheads.”
“Of course you did.”
“I’ll see you downstairs.” He smiled over his shoulder as he disappeared.
I realized how much I’d been looking forward to tonight–getting to know Matt in his own territory, languishing in his attention, beneath his cautious touch. I’d spent so long diving straight into bed with men that I’d forgotten how thrilling the chase could be, even if it was tortuously slow. Charlotte could learn to be patient…right?
I smudged something dark and shimmering over my eyelids, smeared my lips in a rich berry gloss. It made a nice change to wear something other than natural make-up, and the corset deserved some drama. With a feather comb in my hair, I headed downstairs. Couldn’t face the otter sandwich.
Matt had changed into a band t-shirt and jeans. Toby had doused himself in Hugo Boss–eugh–and stood in the hall to call a cab.
“You look nice,” I said, resisting the urge to brush my fingers down Matt’s chest. He nodded at me.
“You too. Lovely, actually.” He swallowed. “Your phone rang.”
I glanced nervously at where it sat on the kitchen island. Oh, fuck…please don’t say it was Joseph again.
“Don’t look so terrified,” he said gently.
“So...who?”
“Your William.”
“Oh.” I stepped from one foot to the other. “Oh. Um. What did he say?”
“He said your car is coming at ten-thirty. I told him to send it to the club.”
“You did what?” I actually felt my eyes widen. “You know what he was talking about, right?”
Matt chewed his lip for a moment, his hair falling into his face. He tucked it behind his ear slowly. “I’m all right with it, Leila.”
“No, you aren’t. Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“I said, I’m all right. It was a commitment you made long before we started to…before we were involved…and you should keep it. Joseph and I had to jump through about forty-two hoops to hire you. I trust the guy, okay?”
“And yet, he still managed to send me out to two people I worked with,” I grumbled.
“We lied,” he said sheepishly. “Joseph owns a company name and we said we were in advertising.”
I rolled my eyes. “So why the sudden rush to be noble?”
“It’s not noble. It’s just realistic. And I’m trying to show you that it doesn’t matter to me what you were. Are,” he added quickly.
“Do you know what it is I’m meant to be doing?”
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Some kind of show, you said.”
“With a guy who will be at the wedding tomorrow. You’ll have to look him in the eye and shake his hand.”
“Then he’d best look after you,” Matt snapped.
We were silent for a moment while Toby chattered away on the phone in the hall.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said finally. “Even if you were okay with it, if Joseph–”
“Can we have one night not mentioning him, do you think?”
“You mentioned him first!”
How long could I go on in a relationship full of disagreements when make-up sex wasn’t an option?
“Guys,” Toby called, “the cab’s here.”
I snatched my phone and shoved it into my purse before following them out to the car.
I shouldn’t have picked a fight with Matt–he was trying. Why did I punish him for it? He was a big boy, the choice his to make.
Maybe I felt guilty about the leap of excitement I’d had when he gave me permission. It tangled my nerves, the show, and for Matt and I, it might be downright dangerous…but after all the frustration I’d suffered today, the thought of Aidan’s skilled touch made me wet. I needed release–something that Matt was not about to give me. Something Matt appeared, on a sordid level, to enjoy not giving me.
Would having sex with him make our relationship any simpler? Probably not.
I took out my phone and punched in a message to him. I didn’t want Toby to overhear anything.
I’m sorry. Can we start over now? X
He read the text and smiled at me ruefully, nudging my knee with his. My phone beeped a moment later.
Trust me, babe. I know what I’m doing xxx
We pulled up outside an old chapel and the bass assaulted my ears.
“My mate’s band is playing,” Matt said proudly. “They’re industrial.”
“What do they make?”
“Oh, be quiet.”
We paid the driver and leaped out into the queue. Matt had a word with the tattooed doorman, and then ushered us forward to shadowy spotlights, sticky floors and a dull reek of beer.
“You’re a man with connections.”
“He’s a man who gives blow jobs to sweaty bouncers,” said Toby. “Check later for hairs in his teeth.”
“Kindly fuck off, Tobe.” Matt’s fist landed swiftly on his brother’s back.
Toby winced as he wandered off to join a group of beckoning girls.
I checked my watch. Almost nine-thirty. Best stay away from the drink, lest Aidan rib me for being sweary again, or I did the unthinkable and fell asleep on the job.
I bought a beer for Matt, and Coke for me. The band wasn’t due on until ten and System of a Down–I was so very proud of myself for recognizing them–roared in the background as the crowd warmed up.
Matt steered me over to a group by the front of the stage. “Guys, this is Leila. From work.”
The three of them eyed me with something between amusement and suspicion.
“I’m Summer,” said a pretty blond girl, offering her hand. I shook it gratefully. Short and impish, dimples nestled in her cheeks when she smiled. “This is Jude.” She gestured to an overly muscled guy in a tight t-shirt and eyeliner. “And Niamh.”
Niamh was something else: milky espresso skin, curls that bounced when she moved, lips painted like vulva and jeans sprayed over her full hips. Her fake smile, obvious scrutiny...they made me uncomfortable. Judging by his narrowed eyes, Matt felt it too.
“Jude’s the drummer,” Matt explained, pulling me in toward him. “I’ve know
n him since I was about six years old. Summer’s his sister.”
I threw my voice over the music. “Do you have any good stories to tell me?”
“Many.” Jude laughed. “But I shall keep a dignified silence.”
“That’d be a first,” Niamh said.
“Niamh probably has the most stories,” he retorted slyly. “Get her drunk enough and she’ll embarrass the fuck out of him.”
Awkward much?
Summer leaned in. “They’re always like this. Long story.”
“I won’t ask.”
“Later, maybe.” She smiled, then wandered off and dragged Niamh with her.
Niamh snatched her elbow away and glanced back over her shoulder, eyes flashing. She’d been in that bed–there was no other explanation. How many times?
“So,” said Jude, “you’re a posh lawyer too?”
“We’re not really posh. The other day, I did some shopping in Tesco.”
“Vile bint. I hope it wasn’t frozen potato smiley faces.”
“Nothing so vulgar, darling.” I giggled. “It was Appletise, if I remember rightly.”
Jude shot the Coke in my hand a confused look. “Matt, please tell me you haven’t shacked up with a bird who doesn’t drink?”
Matt shook his head, grinning. “She drinks, don’t you? She’s just got a prior engagement.”
“What, you’re running off and leaving us?” Jude wagged at his finger at me. “I made all this effort, too. I put deodorant on and everything.”
“That’s very considerate of you, really. I’ll be here for a while yet, though.”
He clapped Matt on the back. “Are you going to come up and do a number for us?”
“You sing, Matt?”
He squared his shoulders. “Sometimes. Why, would you like to hear me?”
“Yeah.” I stared up at him as he drank in the way my breasts swelled over the corset. “I promise not to laugh, too.”
“Liar,” he murmured, eyes shining.
God, I could have shoved him against that stage and eaten him alive. Instead, I had to wring my hands and keep my distance. I had flashbacks to how he’d sucked my nipples, how I’d shuddered as the flat of his tongue melted against my clit. This was worse than being teased.
A couple of guys began to mess with guitars on the stage, and Jude leapt up to join them.
“Will you be okay if I give them a hand?” asked Matt.
“Yeah, of course.”
“I’ll get Summer to look after you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Not Niamh?”
“I’m sorry about her.” He swallowed. “I didn’t know she’d be here.”
“Is she your ex?”
“Yeah.” He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “We went out for about four years, actually.”
I nearly spat out my Coke. “Four years, and now you don’t even say hello to each other?”
“It…ended badly.”
“You don’t say.” I scanned the room and caught her eyeing us from the bar. “She has this strange air to her.”
“What, like sleep with one eye open?” He chuckled.
“Something like that.” I leaned closer to him, knowing that she watched. “Why did you break up?”
“I’ll tell you later, babe–I should do a mic check.”
“One time? Two time?”
“Shush, Leila.” He brushed his fingers under my chin as he smiled, then seemed to remember that he’d vowed not to touch me. He lowered his gaze and followed Jude up on to the stage.
I watched as Matt twisted cables ‘round his fingers and adjusted the mic stand. He chatted with the other band members so easily. Here, he was in his element. I envied him for having passion beyond the world of work–I had no such thing. For me they had always been one and the same, and now I realized that it didn’t make me as happy as I’d thought. Law was satisfying, but not this…easy.
Summer appeared next to me.
“I like your makeup,” I said, gesturing to the tiny stars that meandered around her eyes. “It’s so pretty.”
“Oh, cheers.” She blushed. Adorable. “I like your feathery thing.”
I tightened the turquoise fascinator against my scalp. “Thanks. I like having an excuse to wear it.”
“So how long have you and Matt been seeing each other?”
So innocent a question, so tongue-tying to answer. “We’re not exactly–I mean–” I grimaced. “It’s complicated.”
“Good things always are.” She smiled knowingly. “He’s told you about Niamh, hasn’t he?”
“Only in brief.”
She scowled. It didn’t obscure her fey beauty one bit. “I’d best not say anything, then.”
“Oh. That bad?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say anything at all…but you’ve probably noticed her giving you seven shades of evil. Like you said, it’s complicated. And probably not what you think.”
What did I think, exactly?
I opened my mouth to speak again, but was drowned out by the vicious twang of a guitar.
“Good evening, girls and boys!” Jude boomed over the PA system.
The crowd whooped and squalled with obscenities.
“It’s been a couple of months since we were last here, so it’s great to see everyone out supporting us tonight. I hope we’re not too rusty.”
“Get on with it!” someone shouted in the back.
The band exchanged chuckles.
“All right, all right!” Jude sat back down behind his drums. “Let’s get this on the road. We are Dexter’s Noose–and this is one of our faves. Subterfuge.”
A cymbal hissed. An electronic violin-tone wailed.
And then Matt began to sing.
“Cynical cylinder, a burdened bystander
I find your eyes and I
Don’t like your soul…”
His voice was more than deep–it had a grind to it, a stalking growl. He’d gone from rugby swot to tortured rock god in the space of ten seconds. It threw me.
I liked it, a lot.
The grin spread across my face as the bass crept in, underscoring his low tones. He knelt a little, clutching the mic with both hands. Caught my eye. I simmered with something and it made me tremble. Not lust, although that was there, as always. I couldn’t say truthfully that it was love.
Pride, maybe?
He really was good.
“Feasting and festering, nobody’s measuring
What you take
You leave a hole…”
Then the violin riff roared, drums exploded and he sprang to his feet with a howl.
“Do they see what I see
A collage of misery?
Eating away at me
Get out of my skin!
I’m drowned in the deluge
I’m balls deep in subterfuge
Get out of my skin, this skin you’re in
It don’t like you…”
I clung to the front of the stage as the crowed shoved and swayed. The music grew heavier, the adrenaline soared and I found my hips twisting, my arm in the air. My eyelids were heavy with the rapture.
I’d been attracted to many types of men but I’d never once imagined myself with a musician. I suppose I’d always thought it clichéd. Now, as Matt stalked across the stage...ah, what had I already missed? Maybe he was more like me than I’d realized: a performer.
The song ground to a halt and the room erupted in whoops of applause. Matt set the mic in front of one of the guitarists and bounded off the stage, waving as people cheered at him. I caught him and he nuzzled into my throat. Hot from the stage, he baulked like candle wax in my arms, and it was instinctive to hold him there before he drew away.
“Cheers to Matt, our occasional guest vocalist,” Jude yelled. “When he feels like it.”
Matt took my hand and as the next song claimed the room, we made our way to the back.
“Your ride will be here in five minutes,” he said, gesturing to the watch o
n his wrist.
“I don’t want to go now,” I said. “I want to stay and hear you sing again.”
He was still catching his breath and the words fell from his mouth in little rushes. “Did you like it, then?”
“You were amazing. I didn’t know you had it in you.” I brushed a hair from his t-shirt. “You should get your own band.”
“Would you be my groupie?” He grinned.
“An untouchable groupie is no fun.”
“I’m fucking rubbish at not touching you, Leila–in case you hadn’t noticed.”
I reached out to hold him and he stepped away.
“Not that you should encourage me,” he said ruefully. “I meant what I said.”
“Okay, okay.” I pouted. “I should get going, I suppose.”
“I’ll see you out.”
The night air was a welcome freshness, crisp in my throat. I recognized John’s car as soon as we stepped out of the chapel.
“I don’t know what time I’ll be back–”
“It’s okay,” he cut in. “I’ll wait up. I’m not going to be able to sleep anyway.”
“You’re sure you want me to do this?”
“Yeah.” He took my hand and gave it a brief squeeze. “I’ll send you a text with my address for the driver. Let me know when you’re on your way home, okay?”
Home.
“Okay. And don’t have too much fun without me,” I warned, squeezing back.
“Same goes for you.”
He released me and I made myself walk to the car. Charlotte wouldn’t let me look back at him, but it wasn't because she didn't care.
For the first time since Charlie, she was afraid.
Chapter 8
“Leila.” John smiled warmly. “How’ve you been, kid?”
I leaned forward from the back seat to give him a hug. “Busy.”
“Aye.” He pulled out and on to the road. “Are you at the wedding tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Are you?”
“Yep. Trying to bring my wife, but she’s not having any of it.”
I laughed. “I wonder why?”
It was good to have a minute of peace. Slowly, the pounding bass that infected my thoughts subsided, and I zoned out. I always followed this little ritual before a job–I needed to forget myself. Remember Charlotte.
One minute of peace was all I got.
Breaking Leila Page 12