by S L Beaumont
Will laughed. “Really? I bet she wouldn’t think that if she knew that I’d slept with you on her couch."
“Will," I hissed, glancing around to make sure that no one had overheard him. “Slept being the operative word, nothing else."
Will put his hand on my arm. “I am just teasing you, Jess. I most certainly wouldn’t have taken advantage of you in that state."
“Okay, moving swiftly on,” I said, my cheeks getting warm. “Tell me all about New York?”
An hour or so later, having joined the others at the big table for a while, I yawned and decided to call it a night. I hadn’t been sleeping at all well and the thought of a long hot bath and an early-ish bedtime was enticing.
I pulled my coat on and grabbed my bag, before jumping up and calling, “Merry Christmas, guys, I’m off.” After waves and kisses, I pulled the door open and stepped into the cold night air. St Paul’s gave off an eerie glow on the hill to my left. I could remember as a girl climbing up the 200 odd stairs to the Whispering Gallery with Dad, and my delight as we whispered messages to one another from opposite sides of the perfect sphere of the dome. I had taken Colin once, but he had such vertigo when we reached the gallery that he’d had to sit down and refused to play the game with me, miserable bastard.
I looked up at the fast moving clouds in the night sky and wondered if it would be a white Christmas. I buttoned my coat around me and started to walk towards the underground station.
“Jess, wait,” a voice called. Will was hurrying up the street behind me, pulling his overcoat on. As he caught up to me he pulled a beanie from his pocket and slipped it on his head.
“I’ll walk with you to the station,” he said, linking my arm through his.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to,” I said, smiling. “I’ve found my way to the station plenty of times on my own.” However, I was pleased to have his company and had been delighted to see him tonight. I realized with a jolt that I had really missed him over the last few weeks. I leaned into him and smiled.
We turned the corner and cut down a side street containing a curved row of Victorian buildings with grand entrance porches. The offices were silent at this time on a Friday night. Overhead there was a loud crack of thunder and all of a sudden the heavens opened. The rain came down in sheets, icy cold and sharp. I gave a cry of dismay and Will started running, pulling me along with him.
We skipped up the steps of the nearest building and took shelter under their porch.
“Yuk. Where did that come from?” I said, shaking the rain from my hair and pulling a face. Will took his gloves and hat off, stuffing them into his overcoat pocket and grinned back at me.
“Here, your face is all wet too,” he said, reaching out and running his dry hands over my wet cheeks. He paused, his hands cupping my face. The laughter died on us both, as his gaze went from my wet cheeks to my eyes and then dropped to my mouth. I bit my bottom lip and felt my own gaze mirroring his. He dipped his head and kissed me, a gentle brush of his lips on mine. He pulled back and studied my reaction, but didn’t remove his hands. Before I could stop myself, I wound my hands around his neck and pulled him back down towards me and returned the kiss. Will backed me up until I was hard against the side wall of the porch. Then without breaking the kiss, he lifted me up and sat me on the wall, pushing my knees apart so that he could stand between them and pull me closer to him.
We stayed like that pressed together, tongues tangling, arms wrapped around one another, whilst out on the street the rain poured down. It was as though we were cocooned in our own little world, one where we suddenly couldn’t get enough of each another. When we eventually broke for air, Will unbuttoned my overcoat and slipped his hands inside and around me, pulling me into an even closer embrace.
“Jess,” he murmured into my hair.
I mirrored his movements, unbuttoning his overcoat and his suit jacket and sliding my hands underneath and over the hard curve of muscle on his chest. I slid my hands around his back and tilted my head up to look at him. After gazing into my eyes for a few seconds, he lowered his head towards mine again and gave me a kiss that had all sorts of unspoken desire wrapped in it. My body was responding to him in ways that somewhere at the very back of my mind I knew were wrong, but it, he, just felt so good.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here. What if one of the others comes past on their way to the tube?” I said.
“Look at the weather, Jess. No one is going out in this,” he replied before kissing me again.
A little while later, the rain stopped. We had spent the entire time wrapped up in one another. We fitted together well, no awkward twisting of heads, no bumping of noses or teeth. I sighed and relaxed against him for a moment, knowing that what had been bubbling away underneath our friendship and building up over the past few months, had finally overflowed and would forever alter us.
“Um… that was amazing, but we shouldn’t be doing this,” I began.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t want me to kiss you?” Will’s eyes flashed and he took a step back.
“You misunderstand me. I hadn’t consciously decided that I wanted you to kiss me, but it was really nice.” I made a grab for his lapel and pulled him back towards me.
“Nice?” he sneered but allowed me to pull him close. “Now I’m feeling insulted.”
I grinned. “Yeah, it was okay.” I shrugged, teasing him with the understatement.
He took my mouth again with his and left me in no doubt that his kisses were anything but nice. They were fantastic and utterly consuming and he knew it from my ragged breathing.
I reached my hand up and stroked his face. “Will. I can’t do this. I’m married. And whatever you may think about my husband, I’m not the sort of woman to have an office affair. We can’t allow this to happen again.”
He pulled my head onto his chest and hugged me. “I know, Jess, and I’m sorry.” We stayed like that for a few moments, his hand stroking my hair. He stepped back and lifted me down from the wall and started buttoning my overcoat back up. “Rain’s stopped. Time to go home,” he said in a heavy voice, his face unreadable.
I gave him an apologetic smile, but he avoided my gaze. Damn, I had hurt him.
We walked to the station, hands thrust into our own pockets, and ran for a waiting train. We found seats next to each other and rode in silence, neither of us knowing quite what to say. I was very aware that he was leaning towards me, his leg and arm pressed against mine, as if the simple contact was saying what he couldn’t. If anyone read our body language, it would have been all too revealing. When the train pulled in at Sloane Square, I gave his hand a squeeze and jumped off without looking at him. His stop was further on at Earl’s Court.
I walked the short distance from the station to my flat, my thoughts jumbled. That was so wrong, I chided myself. What the hell were you thinking? You should have put a stop to it immediately. But my racing blood, light heart and overactive mind won out over my guilty conscience. Whatever it was that had just happened, I felt amazing. I hadn’t felt this good in months. I stopped walking for a moment and frowned as I analyzed my feelings. Actually, I didn’t ever remember feeling this good.
Chapter 13
December 21
Colin was gone the next morning when I woke. I stretched and reveled in the fact that it was Saturday and I had the whole day to myself. A few domestics, maybe the gym and then shopping. My happy planning was brought to a screeching halt as memories of last night came crashing in. Oh God, I kissed Will. Or should I say, he thoroughly kissed me. I had never been kissed like it. Not by Colin, not by any of the previous teenage boyfriends that I’d dated. I remembered his hands on my face and his arms around me. There was no fumbling or groping, in fact he hadn’t touched me anywhere inappropriate, yet I still felt utterly consumed by him. Lying in bed reliving his kisses in my head, my toes curled as I felt a flush run right through my body. This was going to have to be my guilty secret.
I wandered into the kitchen to make myself a coff
ee. There was a note on the kitchen counter from Colin.
‘Playing golf all day. Remember dinner at Tartines 8pm. Don’t be late’.
I was sitting at the little table in the kitchen with wintery sun streaming in, enjoying my coffee and cereal, when my phone chimed with an incoming text.
‘We need to talk. Lunch—the Queen’s Head? 12:30pm? Will’
Oh God. He regrets it. How much did he have to drink? Hardly anything from what I saw. What to wear? A million thoughts crashed around my head. I looked at my watch. It was already 11 am. I had to do this or it would be excruciatingly embarrassing the next time I saw him. I took a deep breath and tapped my reply.
‘OK. See you there’.
After half an hour of tidying and other domestic chores to occupy my racing mind, I pulled on my boots, jacket and scarf. Locking the door behind me I skipped down the stairs and headed out. Colin wouldn’t notice a tidy flat anyway.
I took my time wandering up the King’s Road looking in shop windows. I couldn’t really concentrate and didn’t register any of the Christmas displays. I got more and more nervous the closer I got to Tyron Street.
It was just after 12:30 pm when I pushed open the door of the pub. A puff of warm air enveloped me as I stepped inside. The smell of roasting meat, beer and burning wood assaulted my senses. My eyes scanned the room, from the semi-circular bar in the center, to the tables and chairs grouped here and there. I let go of the breath that I was holding when I saw that Will was already waiting, seated at a table by the open fire. He jumped up as I walked over, and smiled.
“Hi, Jess,” he said, kissing my cheek and taking my coat as I slipped it off. He draped it over the back of the chair nearest his. “Don’t look so scared. It’s just me.”
I gave a nervous laugh. “I know. But it’s you and at the same time, not you.” I sat down beside him and forced myself to look into his eyes. I saw my own uncertainty mirrored.
He studied my reaction for a long moment. “Our friendship is important to me and I really don’t want to mess that up. Can we spend time together without it being awkward?”
I gave him a half smile. “Of course.” I felt a little stab of hurt. He regretted what had happened the previous night and he was right, of course. I sat back, putting a little distance between us.
Will held my gaze, his expression serious, and a slight frown creasing the skin between his eyes. I attempted to match his expression, but mine came out a little defiant or defensive, before I dropped my eyes and looked down at my clasped hands.
He leaned across and put this thumb and finger under my chin and encouraged me to look up again. “It’s not that I didn’t enjoy kissing you, Jess. I did. A lot.”
My stupid heart swelled. I looked around the pub as I waged an internal battle. Despite it being lunchtime and the weekend before Christmas, it was still only half full. A couple of men at the next table were looking at us, clearly checking Will out. I did the same. He was wearing jeans and a dark blue cashmere jumper with the collar of a pale blue shirt showing underneath. The only other time I had seen him in anything other than a suit, was at the house the day after Dad’s funeral. I decided that I really liked seeing him casual and relaxed. He really was very good looking, in a clean cut, chiseled kind of way. It was the mop of dark hair flopping over his forehead that gave the only clue to any lack of control on his part. Having experienced him letting go a little last night, I knew that there was a lot more passion in this man than I ever realized.
I looked into his eyes, then dropped my gaze to his lips. “And if I am honest, I really enjoyed kissing you too.”
Will’s mouth broke into a grin. He leaned over and holding my face with one hand, pressed his lips to my lips for a few seconds and then rested his forehead against mine. “Oh, Jess,” he murmured. “What am I going to do with you?”
A few crazy stray thoughts raced through my head, but I thought it wise to keep them to myself.
We ordered the pub special, a delicious ham and chicken pie, and sat chatting and laughing. Will’s hand rested on my leg, just above my knee. He linked his fingers through mine when I finished eating. Everywhere he touched seemed to tingle. His eyes sparkled and I felt a warmth that I hadn’t for months. After our plates were cleared away, he leaned over and whispered, “Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my seat and helped me on with my coat, his fingers lingering on my neck, as he pulled my hair free, causing a shiver to run through me. He smirked as he felt my reaction.
“I am so glad it’s not just me,” he said.
We caught the bus back to his place in Earl’s Court. We sat close together on the top deck, his arm around me, holding me close in to his side. I closed my eyes and inhaled his peppery scent. On the street, the world continued along its merry way. People were wrapped up warm against the December cold in overcoats, scarves, hats and gloves, laden with shopping bags. Christmas trees, lights and decorations shone from every store window. The odd snow flurry floated silently past the window of the bus, adding to the picture postcard scene. I relaxed and leaned closer to Will, who responded by squeezing me harder and kissing the top of my head.
Will lived in a one-bedroom top floor flat in a row of terraced houses one road back from the underground station. It was immaculate; simply decorated with white walls, leather couch, glass-top dining table, flat screen TV. There were no photos, nothing personal, it reminded me of a hotel suite in some ways.
Will watched me explore his home. I peeked in his little kitchen. It too was spotless. I felt him come up behind me and put his arms around me, pulling me back against him. I held my breath as he lifted my hair, exposing my neck. When he kissed a sensitive spot on my collarbone, I couldn’t stop myself from moaning.
That was all it took. Suddenly I was on the move, being spun around to face him, lifted up and deposited on his bench top, his mouth finding mine. Like the previous evening, he pushed my knees apart, so that he could stand between them and pull me close. We kissed with the desperation of two people starved for each other’s touch and I wound my hands in his hair and my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer too. Breaking the kiss, he leaned back and unbuttoned my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. I pulled my arms out, as he began unbuttoning my cardigan and slipping that off my shoulders too. The scoop neck black top that I had on underneath suddenly seemed too tight as I watched Will’s eyes drift from my face to my cleavage. He bent his head and placed a gentle kiss on the soft mound of each breast. I sighed and leaned back as he kissed his way up my neck to regain my mouth. I untangled my hands from his hair and began to unbutton his shirt, mirroring his movements of a moment earlier. Stepping back, he discarded his shirt and pulled the t-shirt underneath over his head, dropping both on the floor.
I raised an eyebrow at him. Dropping clothes seemed almost wrong in this immaculate flat. Correctly reading my teasing expression he muttered, “Now is so not the time to be tidy.”
I pulled him back to me using my legs and ran my hands over his broad chest and down his muscular arms. “Gorgeous,” I breathed. My hands were too small to encircle his biceps.
He shook his head. “No, it’s you who is gorgeous,” he said, tugging at the hem of my t-shirt with a question in his eyes.
I raised my arms allowing him to pull it over my head. It joined his on the floor, and I flushed as he took in the sight of me sitting on his bench wearing just jeans and a black lacy bra. He stepped back and pulled off my boots and socks. I wrapped my legs around his waist again as we kissed and explored each other’s bodies. He stood me up to unbutton my jeans and slide them down my legs.
Thank God I had worn matching underwear, although I don’t think Will would have noticed. His hands and mouth were everywhere. I felt my bra slide off and hit the floor as he lowered his mouth very gently over one breast and then the other, teasing the nipples with his tongue. We made love there and then up against the bench in his kitchen, and again on the floor in the lounge before finally colla
psing in his bed, only to rouse and make love again as the sun began setting in the sky.
“You are so beautiful,” Will murmured afterwards as I lay across him, well and truly spent. His fingertips ran up and down my back and over the curve of my butt. His hand stilled on my hip. “I hated seeing you leave the pub with Colin that night,” he said all of a sudden. “I know I had no right to, but I think it was then that I realized that I was in trouble where you were concerned.”
I rolled onto my front and propped myself up on my elbows looking at him. “Mmm… although I think we were in trouble a bit earlier than that.” I smiled at him.
“You really are beautiful, Jess.”
“Thank you.” I blushed, dipping my head. “I guess I was lucky in the genetics department.”
“You must get sick of being told that,” Will said.
“What? That I’m beautiful? No one tells me that, well except my parents, but that doesn’t count.”
“Surely Colin does.”
I shook my head. “No, never.”
“Then he’s an idiot.”
I lowered my gaze, not sure what the protocol was for what I had to do next.
“Um, I think I am going to have to go soon.” I bit my lip and looked apologetically at him. I felt a sharp pang of guilt but pushed it down. I would deal with that later when I was on my own. I was not going to spoil what had been one of the very best afternoons I could remember.
A raw emotion passed across Will’s face, but when he looked at me again, his expression was guarded. “Okay,” he said.
My phone chose that moment to beep with an incoming text. I had dropped my bag in the lounge when we arrived, so I rolled off the bed and padded along the hallway to retrieve my mobile. Tapping the screen as I walked back to the bedroom, I saw the message was from Colin.
‘Dinner cancelled. Eating at golf club instead. Don’t wait up. C’
I glanced up from the doorway of Will’s bedroom. He was lying in bed with just a sheet covering his modesty, clearly enjoying the view I was providing.