‘Honestly, Pearl – I don’t mind?’
I know you don’t’, I return patiently, ‘but it’s completely counter-productive and there’s no need. I’m fine – I’m a little drunk but more than capable of finding a cab and going home.’ I give him a long look and hope that he reads the message in my eyes. That he needs to back off. He heaves a sigh and sits down, picking up his JD and tossing it back irritably.
Gemma gets up and gives me a hug.
‘It’s been a great night, text me when you get home, okay? We’ll only be another hour before we get off, it’s not great in here, is it?’
‘No. I was expecting cheesy music and flashing rainbow lights, not groping around in the dark listening to deep house!’ I grin at her. ‘We’ll try somewhere else next time!’
Picking up my bag, I move away from the sofas, everyone raising their hands and calling goodbye. Aaron looks up and catches my eye and I can see the want in them. I wonder what I’m going to do about this. Maybe I’ll enlist Donna’s help, see if she could have a quiet word with him, make him understand that I love him dearly, but only as a friend.
Six
I push my way into the lobby. There’s a group of men standing near the double front doors and two of them look at me appraisingly as I walk past, trying not to wobble on my heels and all the wine in my bloodstream. I wish again that I hadn’t had that final drink.
‘Hey sexy!’ one of them calls as I walk past but I don’t look back. I just want out of here now, the thought of my soft bed pulling me home. My feet are hurting and I still feel a bit sick. Large glass of water as soon as I get in. I’ve enjoyed getting drunk for the first time, but I’ll need to learn when I’ve had enough. I seriously hope that this queasiness doesn’t get any worse and I throw up in the taxi. It’ll cost me a fortune.
Thankfully, as I stand on the pavement and inhale the cold night air, the sickness leaves me and I start to feel a little better. There’s a taxi rank on the other side of the road and I slide into the front saloon, giving the driver my address and I lean my head back on the seat, closing my eyes.
What an amazing night! I pang again that it didn’t turn out exactly as I hoped it would, but it’s still been fantastic. I’ve had my first real kiss, and the feelings that it ignited in me, well… I’m looking forward to more of that in the future. My subconscious reminds me that not every man I meet is going to make me feel the way that Carter did tonight, that maybe, just maybe, he was the only one, but I push the thoughts away. I’m pissed and being ridiculous.
I’m jerked suddenly awake as the car stops and the interior light comes on. The driver leans between the gaps in the seats, smiling at me. He’s about Dan’s age and I see a faint flicker of disapproval as he looks at me. He obviously thinks I’m smashed.
‘Nine fifty, please love,’ he says quietly and I grope in my bag, extracting a ten pound note and muttering at him to keep the change. He thanks me as I crack open the car door and struggle out, standing on the pavement for a moment as the taxi purrs off into the night, its brake lights winking as it reaches the end of the wide road.
I turn and start to make my way up the sloping driveway, but it’s hard in these shoes. It’s dark as well. The coach-lamps are on at the top, but their light doesn’t extend this far down towards the road. I stop, pulling off my shoes and snagging them by the toes, the world swinging around me in great swathes as I stand upright again, my head swimming badly.
Fuck!
Taking a deep breath and trying to re-establish my equilibrium I pick my way carefully up the shadowed driveway, keeping my eyes focussed on the lights up ahead of me. When I’m almost to the top, I hear a car door close quietly from the road and I turn as I reach the steps up to the front of the house. A hot wire glows nastily in my gut when I see a long, dark shape loping quietly up the driveway towards me.
Oh God.. Who the fuck is this?
This is a seriously sinister situation. A young woman, alone, drunk and standing in the dark at nearly two in the morning, being approached by a person unknown but as the figure gets closer, my unease suddenly disappears. There’s a strange spark in the pit of my stomach, my nerve endings beginning to thrum and even before he’s stepped into the puddle of light from the coach lamps, I know exactly who this is.
Carter stops as he gets to within a few feet of me, his unruly hair gleaming under the soft lamplight and I can do nothing but gape at him. Despite my drunken state, I retain enough cognition for the questions to start tumbling. Why is he here and, more to the point, how the fucking hell does he know where I live? I open my mouth but he gets there first, taking a small step closer to me, as if struggling to keep away.
‘Before you freak out, I know this looks weird, okay? I’m sorry if I scared you, and I’m not stalking you, despite how this seems,’ he mutters, the words coming out in a rush. I can see the light flush sweeping his high cheekbones as his eyes lock with mine.
‘Why are you here, Carter? More to the point – how are you here? How do you know where I live?’
Despite wanting to take a step towards him now, I don’t. As much as a part of me is thrilled that he’s here, it’s also a bit bizarre.
His flush deepens. ‘I tracked your phone – you haven’t disabled your location services. Look…’ Another step towards me and I don’t back off. Yeah, I’ll have that for an explanation, but he still hasn’t told me why he’s here.
‘I was… I have to be on the motorway soon, I’ve got a long drive ahead of me and when I saw you leave the club, I followed your taxi.’ He dips his head now, lowering his eyes as if considering his next words carefully.
‘I needed to see you again. I’m going to be out of the area for a couple of days, and I…’
I take a step towards him myself now. I suddenly don’t give a shit about his slightly creepy behaviour. He’s done it because of his need to see me. I raise a brow at him - I want him to finish the sentence. I’m lapping this up.
‘You what?’ I ask, pushing him to spit it out. He takes another step towards me and now there’s only a few inches between us. I stare up at him. He’s so incredibly beautiful in the soft light, his hair shining a burnished glow, his pupils blown out so much that most of his captivating irises have disappeared.
‘I wanted to do this again,’ he whispers and then he takes my face in the palms of his hands, drawing me towards him until our chests are touching. He lowers his head and then his lips are once again brushing mine.
I groan immediately and crash my mouth up to his, hard, our teeth colliding painfully for a second and then he’s all over me. His kiss deepens by the second, becomes hotter, so hot that I twitch between my trembling thighs. The sounds that he makes as he devours me, small groans of pleasure interspersed with harsh breath that bathes my face when he breaks away finally and stares at me wonderingly. He reaches up, his fingers trembling and he tucks some strands of my hair behind my ear.
I rest my forehead on his white shirt, breathing in the smell of him. I’m gasping, my body a riot of out of control hormones and I want nothing other than to take him by the hand, lead him up to my attic apartment and let him make love to me. I want it so badly it’s almost painful, but I know it’s not going to happen. He’s told me he has to leave.
I tip my face to his finally as my breathing and heartrate begin to calm and he smiles slowly at me, kissing the tip of my nose.
‘You came all the way here at two in the morning, just to kiss me?’ I ask, my voice almost a squeak. He’s either the biggest bull-shitter known to man and is playing me a serious line just to get into my pants or he’s genuine. At this juncture, though, I’m not sure which one’s correct.
‘Yeah, I did. It was all I had in my head ever since you left the nightclub,’ he admits quietly, putting his arms around me now and pulling me into him. I bury my face into the warm skin of his neck, closing my eyes and inhaling blissfully. He smells divine and I kiss his neck gently, not wishing to waste the opportunity. He groans, his ow
n face buried in my neck too.
‘Where are you travelling to in the middle of the night?’ I ask, finally looking up. The more I see of his face, the more I fall in love with every feature, every curve, every line. He has a very light stubble on his jaw, as if he’s gone a couple of days without shaving, but it just serves to make him even more attractive. There isn’t a single flaw on his face, nothing that could be changed or improved upon. He kisses me softly and slowly for a moment, one gentle sweep of his tongue, and then:-
‘Dorset. I’m due at my father’s home for a meeting and to sign some paperwork. My mother died when I was in my early teens and appointed me as Director of some of their joint holdings. As such, he needs my signature on a few things.’
I burrow into his neck again, questions forming a queue. I want to ask him about his family, but now is not the time. He’s going to have to go soon and I don’t want to waste what little time we have left talking about his background. We can do that next time. If I’m not going to get the opportunity to make love to him, then at the very least I need something else in my head, if he’s not going to be around for a couple of days.
Slow this down. This is too much too soon for you. You haven’t the first idea how to cope with any of this and you’re running headlong.
I know I am. But I can’t seem to see any further ahead at the moment than the next ten minutes. Saying nothing in response to Carter’s explanation for his trip to the other side of the country, I tip my face up to his, kissing his chin before nudging underneath his jaw with my nose, making him tip his head back. He groans and closes his eyes as he exposes his throat to my lips and my searching tongue and I pause, feeling his carotid artery pounding spectacularly under my quivering lips. Without needing to put my hand anywhere near the lower half of his body, I know he’s incredibly turned on. His heart’s crashing against his ribs.
He gasps and groans again as I reach up, my fingers finding the first of his shirt buttons and, still kissing and biting his neck gently, I undo it and gently stroke his collarbone with my lips.
Carter says nothing, but his eyes are hazed with desire as he looks down at me, his lips parted and his breath coming in harsh pants. He moans gently when I nip the skin of his throat delicately with my teeth and before I know what’s happening, he’s got me under the armpits. He picks me up, taking the stone steps at the front door two at a time and without warning, he slams me hard into the brickwork at the side. He immediately sheathes me with his body and my hands knit around the back of his neck before plunging deeply into his thick curls.
‘For fuck’s sake, what the hell are you doing to me?’ he groans. He holds my face with one long fingered hand, tipping it up, stroking my lips gently with his. They part as soon as they feel him, I can’t get enough of this man’s mouth on mine. I never knew kissing could feel like this.
I’ve seen enough movies to feel a throb in my guts sometimes at a passionate screen kiss, could imagine what the pair were feeling, but experiencing it myself, finally, is beyond my wildest dreams. Within a second, Carter’s lips are locked on mine and for the next long minutes, he does nothing but kiss me so deeply, my mind fogs. By the time he pushes regretfully away, glancing at his watch, my eyes are nearly crossed, my lips swollen and my chest flushed red. I’ve got a pounding pulse in my panties and I’m grateful suddenly that he’s stopped. If he’d have carried on for much longer, I wouldn’t have been able to hold onto it. I want him to experience my first orgasm first hand, I want to see the look on his face when he realises that he’s the only man who’s ever made me come. Again – a conversation for another time.
‘I have to go,’ he whispers, his breathing quick and he kisses me again, so sweetly. He bites my lip gently as he pulls away. ‘Can I see you on Monday evening? I’ll be back in Liverpool by then?’ He hikes an enquiring brow, but I can see anxiety in his eyes, at the prospect of me saying no. His stare is intense, his greens lit from within. I smile up at him.
‘I’ll be seeing Nelson on Monday evening, but you’re welcome to come?’
Confusion fills his face now and I realise what that last sentence sounded like. He probably thinks that I’ve got a boyfriend and that I’m inviting him along. His eyes search mine, dismay fleeting them when he gets the wrong end of the stick.
‘Shit, sorry Carter – Nelson is my horse,’ I explain hurriedly and within a second his face breaks out into a stunning relieved smile.
‘I’d love to. Text the postcode to me and the time and I’ll see you there.’ He breaks off, as if considering saying something else, but evidently decides against it. He strokes my face and I drown once again in his beautiful eyes and the emotion that I see in them.
‘Okay, I really do have to go,’ he murmurs, leaning down and kissing me softly again. This one is almost chaste, no sign of his tongue and this is deliberate. If we carry on as we are, he’s no chance of leaving. I don’t want him to go. I just want to stand in his arms all night, here, outside the house if nothing else and let him kiss me. I need his mouth on me like I need air, suddenly.
His face tips into a sweet smile and he finally turns to go. I force myself to release him and his hand takes hold of mine as he starts to walk away. I feel a stab of real pain as he finally reaches the point where our hands have to part and my fingers reflexively curl around his, stopping him in his tracks.
Our gazes blister and we’re lost.
‘Oh fuck, come here…’
He grabs me, enfolding me into his body and we’re kissing again. They’re sloppy, passionate and so fucking hot that I can’t help myself. I slide my hand over his shirt, down his rock hard abdomen until the length of my palm is resting up against the arousal I can feel buried in his jeans. I press my hand tightly into the denim, curling my fingers around his hidden length.
‘Jesus Pearl, you have to stop,’ he gasps. ‘If you do that again I’m going to be in serious shit. I have to go…’ One final, desperate kiss and he forces himself to walk away. He doesn’t stop, if he stops, he’ll come back but his head is over his shoulder as he starts down the dark driveway.
‘I’ll text you,’ he calls quietly and I can’t help the smile that climbs my face. My core is still throbbing out of control and my knickers are a soaking mess.
‘Goodnight Carter,’ I say softly and he raises a hand as he gets halfway down the driveway and he’s once again a black shadow. I fish out my key and picking up my abandoned shoes, let myself quietly into the house. I shut the door and set the alarm, leaning back against it for a moment, closing my eyes and blowing out a long breath.
I bring my fingers to my lips, swollen and over-sensitised from such violent kissing and as I stroke them, my stomach clenches at the memory of Carter’s hungry, perfect mouth on mine.
The rolling desire turns to gleeful exhilaration as I think about the day I’ve just had. My birthday, Nelson, Carter… it couldn’t possibly be any better and I head slowly up the stairs towards my cosy little attic. The house is quiet, there’s no sound from Justin and Ellen’s room, but I’ll bet my life that Justin’s awake. Knowing the man as I do, he won’t settle until he hears me come in.
Climbing into bed ten minutes later, I drink the glass of water I’ve poured and turn off the lamp. I’m still drunk and I wonder how I’ll feel in the morning. I’ve never had a hangover before, but I’ve seen some of Diane’s and they look excruciating. However, she does drink brandy by the gallon, so maybe I won’t suffer quite so badly.
I’m drifting off, my alcohol soaked mind throwing delicious images behind my closed lids. Images of a riot of coppery curls and laughing green eyes. Soft warm lips and a stroking tongue…
I’m jerked from the cusp of sleep as my phone pings with a text and I roll over and sit up. Shit. I promised to text Gemma to tell her I’d got home okay, that’s probably who this is. I pick up my phone, the bright screen making me squint, mole-like at the display as I see who’s trying to get in touch.
A strange number, not someone in my conta
cts. Despite my sluggish brain, it hits me immediately.
Carter.
My heart starting to knock, I open my texts with trembling fingers, bringing the device to my face as I read the words he’s sent to me.
Tonight was incredible. I can’t wait to see you on Monday. Carter. X
Oh God.
I’m falling. I’m falling hard and there’s not a single thing that I can do about it.
Seven
Cracking open a crusty eye, I slam it shut again when bright sunlight shoves spears into my brain. I try and roll over, my tongue like a strip of leather, my brain throwing itself into the side of my skull with every pound of my heart.
If this is a hangover, you can shove them. I’m never drinking again.
I groan as I haul myself upright and feel a roll of nausea as my feet meet the floor. I clench my teeth together, trying to swallow it down. The last thing I want to do is throw up, my head’s killing me as it is.
I stand shakily and head for the shower, leaving the water ice-cold. Taking a deep breath, I step under, my body jerking in shock and my skin swarming in goose-bumps but I force myself to stay under the frigid water. I like the odd cold shower, they strengthen me. Most people have never had a freezing cold shower in their life, why would they? I’ve had plenty.
Some of the places I’ve been shoved in as a child, from pillar to post for a few years it seemed, until I found some relative stability at Swallowdale, were less than satisfactory in the comfort stakes. The heating was always breaking down and cold and tepid showers were the norm. One place only had an ancient immersion heater, so a runt like me always got the cold dregs.
When I lived on the streets, it was even worse, strip washing in public toilets. But as unpleasant as these things were, they taught me some valuable life lessons, toughened me up and prepared me for survival. In remembrance of that time in my life, therefore, at least once a week I take a freezing cold shower.
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