Chasing Dreams

by Susan Lewis

  ‘It’s not that,’ he said, his voice faltering as she squeezed him hard. ‘I just don’t want you to think …’ His eyes closed as she touched the tip of his penis to her clitoris. ‘I don’t want you to think …’

  ‘That you’re just using me for sex?’ she finished, looking up into his face, her eyes twinkling with laughter.

  He looked down at her and as her words registered through the distraction of what she was doing he wondered if she was telling him it was OK, that he could use her for sex, if that was what he wanted.

  His eyes remained on hers and as she smiled he had the same terrible urge to take her as he’d felt last night. It was less violent this morning, less spiked with anger, but still too pressing to deny. She looked up at him as she carried on stroking herself with his penis and, forcing a tenderness to his eyes, he said, ‘Is this good for you too?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  His eyes dropped to where their bodies were touching and despising himself for his inability to stop, he unfastened the button on her shirt and pushed it down over her shoulders. Then, shrugging off his robe, he lifted her onto the kitchen table and laid her down on her back.

  As he entered her she gasped and reached for his hands. His fingers closed around hers, squeezing them tight as he pressed them to her hips and held her as he began to pump in and out of her. She watched his face and gave a bashful smile when at last his eyes came to hers. His expression suddenly darkened and his strokes became longer and more rapid. He threw out her hands and dragged her buttocks from the table, holding her up so he could penetrate her deeper and harder. Then quite suddenly it was over and as he ejaculated into her and swore violently under his breath she was exultant to think that she had turned him on so much that he had been unable to stop himself coming so fast.

  When finally he withdrew he helped her from the table and held her loosely round the waist as she circled her arms around his neck. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  She looked surprised. ‘Sorry? What for?’ She laughed.

  He seemed embarrassed, then, stooping to pick up the shirt he handed it to her. ‘It wasn’t any good for you,’ he said.

  She laughed again. ‘It was fantastic,’ she told him.

  He still looked doubtful, so she went up on tiptoe to kiss him and assured him that after last night, it was the best she had ever known. And it was true, it was, for even though she hadn’t come herself, all that mattered was that he cared. And if she needed any further proof of that she got it when he joined her in the shower and washed himself in front of her as though they had been this comfortable together for years. He even, as she told Nesta when she returned to their flat later, offered to let her have the day off work if she wanted to.

  ‘How very generous of him,’ Nesta commented, her large, hazel eyes still slightly clouded with sleep and looking decidedly uncertain about all this. ‘Did he kiss you when you left?’ she asked.

  Sandy looked surprised at the question. ‘Of course he did.’ She laughed, digging a spoon into a giant bowl of cornflakes. ‘What did you think, he shook my hand?’ She ate the cereal, and winked at Nesta. ‘It was only a quick kiss, though,’ she said, when she’d swallowed, ‘because the phone rang and I didn’t hang around because the cab was waiting and I think he’d probably seen enough of me without make-up at this stage of our relationship.’ She laughed and downed another spoonful of cornflakes.

  Nesta breathed in deeply and glanced over to the radio, where a traffic report was giving way to the latest sound from Arrowsmith. She was still in her nightie, having been turfed out of bed by a jubilant Sandy some twenty minutes ago to hear all about the earth-shattering start to this long-awaited affair.

  The tea in the mug she was holding was turning cold, so getting up from the table she poured what was left down the sink and replugged the kettle. ‘So when are you seeing him again?’ she asked, leaning against the draining board and watching Sandy as she lifted the breakfast bowl and drank the remains of her cereal.

  As she finished Sandy laughed and, using her fingers to wipe away a milky moustache, she said, ‘In about an hour.’

  Nesta frowned, then remembered that of course she would see him at the office. ‘I meant, do you have another date?’ she said.

  Sandy shrugged. ‘I expect I’ll go over there tonight,’ she answered, carrying her bowl to the dishwasher. ‘Unless he’s got some party or other to go to.’ She stopped for a moment as she thought about that, then said, ‘If he does, I wonder if he’ll invite me.’

  ‘Yes, I wonder,’ Nesta responded dubiously.

  Sandy glanced at her, then, depositing her bowl in the machine she took a loaf of bread from the wooden container and cut herself a slice. ‘He might not want to go public yet,’ she explained. ‘Anyway, I thought you might have been a bit more pleased for me than this.’

  Nesta shrugged. ‘I am,’ she said. ‘It’s just a bit early in the morning, that’s all. So tell me again, how did you come to go back to his place?’

  ‘He invited me,’ Sandy answered, slotting two pieces of bread into the toaster. ‘He came into the office around ten last night, while I was still working, and I suppose he just thought there was no point holding back any more. Actually, he probably made the decision before that, because he must have known I was there, otherwise why come back?’

  Nesta shook her head, at a loss for another explanation. ‘Where had he been until ten?’ she asked. ‘Did he say?’

  ‘He was having dinner with that LA agent I told you about, the one who was at the restaurant the other night. You should have seen her. Honestly, talk about fancying herself. I mean, she’s not bad looking, but the way she spoke to Michael it was guaranteed to get his back up and it did, anyone could see that. I think I told you about it, didn’t I?’

  Nesta nodded.

  ‘Yes, well, I expect she managed it again last night, seeing how early he left the restaurant.’ She was quiet for a moment and turning to look at Nesta she started to grin and her young, shining eyes filled with elation as Michael’s dinner date of the night before was forgotten and the memory of all that had happened after came flooding back. ‘Did I tell you about the way he said he didn’t want me just for sex?’ she said, not entirely sure those were his exact words, even though it was what he had meant.

  Nesta nodded.

  Sandy giggled. ‘I’m telling you, he’s that good I almost wouldn’t mind if he did,’ she said. Then, laughing, she went on: ‘You should have seen him before he said it. I mean, I was starting to get worried, because it was like he didn’t want to do it again or something. But then, when he said that, I realized he was just afraid I might think he was using me. God, he’s so romantic.’

  ‘Did he kiss you much?’ Nesta asked, turning to pour boiling water on a fresh tea-bag.

  Sandy’s head went to one side as she thought about that. ‘Yeah, quite a bit,’ she said. ‘He’s got a fantastic body. You should see it. And he’s pretty well-endowed, let me tell you.’

  ‘You already did,’ Nesta reminded her. ‘So what are you going to do,’ she asked, returning to the table with her tea, ‘if he doesn’t invite you to the party or over to his place tonight?’

  Sandy frowned and instead of answering the question, she said, ‘Why are you saying that? Why do you think he wouldn’t invite me? I told you, it’s really happening between us now, so why can’t you accept that?’

  ‘I can if it’s true,’ Nesta told her.

  ‘Well it is,’ Sandy assured her. ‘It’s why he waited so long. I mean, if all he’d wanted was to screw me he’d have done it ages ago, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘I don’t know, would he?’ Nesta countered. Then, sighing, she said, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so cynical, but it just doesn’t feel right somehow.’

  ‘What doesn’t?’ Sandy asked churlishly.

  ‘I don’t know. The fact that he didn’t take you out first, I suppose. Did you call Isabelle back, by the way? She wants to talk you into stayin
g with your regulars.’

  ‘No way!’ Sandy cried. ‘I told you, I told her, that’s all behind me now. I don’t want to be paid for dates any more, I want to go on real ones, the way other women do. Besides, if it really does get going with me and Michael I can hardly two-time him with strangers, can I?’

  Nesta’s surprise showed. ‘If?’ she repeated. ‘You sounded a hundred per cent a moment ago, now it’s “if”.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ Sandy said irritably.

  ‘What I know is that there’s every chance you’re jumping the gun here,’ Nesta said frankly, ‘and if you are, you’re going to end up …’

  ‘Stop being so bloody negative, will you?’ Sandy broke in angrily. ‘If you’d been there, if you’d seen the way he was with me you’d know that it means something to him too. OK, he’s still fighting it, but not as much as he was, and I expect by now he’s already come to the conclusion that his rule about no relationships in the office is just a waste of time when he’s the only one who sticks to it.’

  ‘So everyone else is having an affair, are they?’ Nesta said.

  ‘No, not everyone. Just Jodi and Harry, though no one’s supposed to know about that, because his wife’s pregnant and due in a couple of weeks.’

  ‘The bastard,’ Nesta retorted, screwing up her nose in disgust. ‘Give me the escort business any day, at least it’s honest.’

  Sandy threw her a look loaded with cynicism.

  ‘I don’t set out to deceive anyone,’ Nesta reminded her. ‘It’s a business arrangement, we have some fun and no one gets hurt. What Jodi and Harry are doing is shameful.’

  Sandy laughed mockingly. ‘Oh, look at you on the moral high ground,’ she sneered. ‘“We have some fun and no one gets hurt.” What do you think all those wives would say if they found out their husbands were paying to sleep with another woman every time they came to London?’

  ‘There’s no reason for them ever to find out,’ Nesta said. ‘And if they did at least they wouldn’t have the fear of me trying to break up their families. Anyway, I’m not getting into defending myself here,’ she said. ‘My conscience is clear about what I do. I don’t lie to myself and pretend things are the way I want them to be just because I don’t like the way they are.’

  Sandy’s eyes sparked. ‘Meaning I do?’ she challenged.

  ‘You said it,’ Nesta responded. ‘Not that it makes any difference to me. If you want to go around kidding yourself some man is crazy about you when all he did was screw you for a night, then you go right ahead and do it. Just don’t be surprised when he doesn’t invite you to parties or first nights or wherever else you’re hoping to go with him, because you can take it from me, it’s not going to happen.’

  ‘What’s the matter with you!’ Sandy shouted. ‘Anyone would think you were jealous, the way you’re carrying on.’

  ‘What’s there to be jealous of?’ Nesta cried, throwing out her hands. ‘If the man had told you he’d been wanting this for months … If he was on the phone now telling you how he can’t wait to see you again …’

  ‘He did,’ Sandy cried.

  Nesta stopped and wrinkled her nose. ‘Did what?’ she said.

  Sandy was racking her brains, trying to remember exactly what had been said about wanting to do it for ages, or always knowing it would happen, or something like that. She couldn’t quite recall it now, but it had certainly come up. ‘He did say he’d been wanting it for months,’ she said. ‘OK, not in those words, but we both knew it was something we’d wanted almost since we met.’

  Nesta’s eyes remained on hers, simmering with all the things she wanted to say, but didn’t quite have the heart to. In the end she simply sighed and shook her head. ‘OK, have it your way,’ she said flatly. ‘The man’s nuts about you.’

  ‘Don’t say it like that!’ Sandy protested.

  Nesta shrugged. ‘Did you tell him you’ve got your engagement ring all picked out?’ she said. ‘Or are you saving that for the second date?’

  ‘Very funny,’ Sandy snapped, and turning away she snatched the bread from the toaster and yanked open the fridge for the butter. By the time the toast was ready to eat her eyes were so full of tears she could barely see. ‘You bitch!’ she suddenly seethed, slamming a hand on the counter. ‘Why do you have to go and spoil it all?’

  Her back was still turned, but it was more than evident she was crying. ‘Oh God,’ Nesta groaned, getting to her feet and going to her. ‘I’m sorry. Look, I’m sure I’ve got it all wrong …’

  ‘No! Don’t!’ Sandy snapped, shoving Nesta’s arm away and rounding on her furiously. ‘It’s too late to take it back now. And why should you? You’ve never thought I was good enough for him, so don’t start pretending now.’

  ‘Look, all I’m saying is, you’ve only spent one night with the man and as far as I can make out he didn’t mention anything about any feelings, which is normal for a first date,’ she said, raising her voice as Sandy tried to interrupt, ‘so do yourself a favour and try slowing up a bit. I know you think you’re in love with him, but you’ve never had a relationship with him and he might turn out to be a complete bastard who you can’t stand the sight of after a couple of months …’

  ‘I don’t want to discuss it any more,’ Sandy cut in. ‘You don’t know him, so you don’t know what you’re talking about. And I can’t expect you to understand the way I feel when all you want out of men is money.’

  ‘I notice you haven’t chosen one who’s exactly poor,’ Nesta shot back.

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with money,’ Sandy raged.

  Nesta was shaking her head. ‘You’re still lying to yourself, Sandy,’ she said. ‘It’s got everything to do with money and status and power, and all those things you think he’s going to give you to make you feel like someone instead of no one. You’re using him, for God’s sake. Or at least you’re trying to and even if you succeed and he does fall in love with you, I’m telling you now, the only way you’re ever going to be someone is when you do it for yourself. He can’t do it for you, nor can I, nor can anyone else. It has to come from you, from here!’ she cried, banging a hand against Sandy’s heart. ‘You’ve got to start believing in yourself and stop trying to climb on his ladder to get to the top, because it doesn’t work that way. You don’t want to be an agent any more than you want to be an actress. All you want is to impress Michael McCann because you’ve made up your mind he’s the answer to all your prayers when you don’t even know what you’re praying for. So get a life, Sandy. Your own life. Not the one you think he wants you to have, because he’s no different from any other man on this planet: he’ll only start respecting you when you start respecting yourself.’

  Sandy’s face was pale as she stared blindly at the watercress on the window-sill. Though she could hear what Nesta was saying she was blocking it from her mind, for Nesta had to be out of her head, saying she should try to find a life without Michael when they’d only just started seeing each other. They had everything in front of them now, and there was just no way she was giving up her career when she’d just been promoted to Diana’s and Janey’s assistant. Nesta didn’t know what she was talking about, saying she didn’t want to be an agent. Of course she wanted to be an agent, it was why she’d applied herself to it the way she had these past eight months and she was damned well going to carry on applying herself, because it was absolutely what she wanted, to become an agent and be as important to Michael as he was to her. And everyone, except Nesta it seemed, knew that if you wanted something badly enough you had to go out there and fight for it. Which was exactly what she was doing.

  ‘I’m going to get changed for work now,’ she said, and without even glancing at Nesta she turned and walked off to her bedroom.

  Michael was at his desk going over a pile of new contracts that Freda had left for him to sign. It was almost midday and mercifully Sandy hadn’t shown up yet, though the fact that she was likely to at any minute and maybe carry on like they were an item was
putting an edge on his nerves that was ruining his concentration. The real irony of the day, though, was that a call should have come from Rio just as she was leaving the apartment.

  Sighing, he dropped his pen and rested his forehead on the heel of his hand. What a god-damned mess, and right now he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do to change it.

  ‘Michael,’ Jodi’s voice came over the intercom. ‘I know you said you didn’t want to take any calls, but Ellen Shelby’s on the line and I wasn’t sure …’

  ‘Put her on,’ Michael said and picking up the receiver he put it to his ear and turned his chair to look out of the window. ‘Hi. How are you?’ he said, using the sonorous lilt of his voice to close out everything but her.

  ‘Embarrassed,’ she answered, matching his tone. ‘And sorry I walked out like that. I meant to pick up the tab.’

  As she spoke he was picturing her face, her soft brown eyes, the flawless complexion, the ripeness of her mouth, the amazing allure of her smile. He felt a pull on his heart and wasn’t surprised by how much he wanted to see her again. ‘Did you get back all right?’ he asked. ‘I should have come after you.’

  ‘I was OK, thanks,’ she responded. ‘I found a taxi.’ She paused, then said, ‘I had a lovely evening, I just wish it hadn’t ended the way it did.’

  Michael smiled and was unable to keep the irony from his voice as he said, ‘You and me both. Where are you now?’

  ‘At my hotel.’

  He was on the point of suggesting lunch, when he spotted Sandy outside and with a terrible sinking sensation he reminded himself that misleading one woman was bad enough, to do it to Ellen too would be unforgivable when he had no intention of selling out to Forgon. Except lunch wouldn’t be about Forgon, would it? It would be about them, which was perhaps an even better reason to avoid it, as the last thing he wanted was to entangle himself in a relationship with Ellen when there was little doubt in his mind that the road they would travel would be much more serious than he wanted.