by Lily Morton
He smirks. “I like the pole idea although once in my boudoir the only pole that they’re writhing around is right here baby.” He clutches his groin and I laugh loudly.
“Enough, Tom Jones. Let’s go to bed.”
For a second his eyes darken and his bare chest rises and falls sharply, his six pack contracting. Then he seems to let go of his sudden tension and reaches out and slides his hand into mine pulling me over to the bed gently and making a move to untie my robe.
Suddenly startled by a realisation I grab his long fingers. “I’ve got to get my nightie,” I gasp. “I forgot all about it.”
He breathes in and tightens his grasp on the robe tie. “You mean you’re naked underneath this,” he says hoarsely, and heat pools in my stomach enough to make me take a step back although I don’t get far because he has a firm hold of me.
“Bram!” I say sharply and he seems to come to himself and lets the tie go reluctantly. “I’ll just go and get my nightie,” I add, intending to get the thickest, longest one that I own which might be difficult as most of my nightwear is skimpy.
“No,” he says sharply. “Don’t go. I’ll go and get it.”
“Bram, I’m only going downstairs. I’m not nipping back to Ireland.”
“Nethertheless I’ll go and get it for you. Where’s your nightie?” he says stubbornly.
“Under my pillow.” He nods jerkily and dashes out of the bedroom and I move to the windows looking out and worrying at the belt around my waist. This has disaster written all over it and just like that I suddenly remember what else is under my pillow. “Oh Bram,” I shriek. “Wait!”
“Wait for what?” He saunters into the room. The bastard isn’t even breathing hard even though he must have moved at the speed of light. He’s carrying a handful of aqua lace and his face has the biggest smirk on it like the stupid jerk’s cheeks might crack with the smile that he’s holding back.
“Oh my God,” I groan dropping my red face into my hands, and he bursts into guffaws of laughter.
Finally after what seems like hours he sobers although his dimples are still ticking madly. “Alys,” he starts and then snorts and has to stop speaking for a second while he chokes back more laughter and I wait patiently. Finally he controls himself and starts again. “I got your nightie. It was under the pillow and you’ll never guess what else I found?”
I shake my head at him, my face so hot that I could fry bacon on it. “Don’t say it,” I warn him and he laughs again.
“Really, it’s like putting your hand under your pillow when the tooth fairy has visited.” He pauses and smirks. “Only miles better.”
“Oh my God Bram just get on with it.”
He chokes out a laugh and pulls his hand from where it’s behind his back and then proffers my vibrator to me as if he’s proposing marriage. For a second we just stare at it in all its huge, iridescent blue glory and then he chokes again making a gigantic, disgusting snort. “I think we’ve found out why you’re single anyway Al. I mean who could compare to this big, bad boy?” He pauses. “Well apart from me,” and then he breaks into more laughter only stopping to flinch when I punch him.
He smiles for a second and then it’s almost as if I can see the dark cloud of depression come over him and the guilt for laughing on such a terrible night. Looking up he catches my eyes and sighs, shakily lifting one shoulder up in a clumsy shrug.
“Oh Bram,” I say gently. “It’s okay to laugh. I don’t know Sid but I’m pretty sure that he’d have found that funny.” He gives a tired sigh and I gesture to the humungous bed. “Come on babe get in.” He nods jerkily and lifts the covers sliding into the sheets with a relieved sigh. Holding my nightie I turn but I’m brought up short when he catches my hand.
“Where are you going?” he asks in a panicked voice. “I thought you were staying.”
I really want to hug him at the moment but I settle for waggling my nightie at him. “I’m just going to change into this, sweetie. I won’t be a minute.” He examines me carefully for a second as if checking for falsehoods, shadows almost black under his eyes, and I notice that their normally intense colour is washed out and almost translucent. “Lie down Bram. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Finally he nods and settles back while I nip into his bathroom and make short work of shedding my dressing gown and pulling on my nightie. Pulling my hair back with a band that I find on the side I look at myself for a second. I’m pale and my eyes don’t look any less tired than Bram’s, but there’s something sparkling in mine that worries me enormously. To him all of this is just the perks of being good friends with someone and we are good friends I know that.
He talks to me all the time now about everything, and I see signs of the person that lies underneath the good humour and banter, and there is someone serious under there. Oh he’ll always be humorous I think and he’s a warm man with a very strong barometer for if anyone feels awkward and sad which is when the humour comes out.
However, he’s also thoughtful and fiercely loyal and I’d been astonished to find out from Matt how much he does for charity, not just giving shed loads of money away but also his time. He’d been embarrassed to find out that I knew about it and dismissed it as Catholic schoolboy guilt but I know better.
He’s not just a light hearted, pretty playboy and that somehow makes him more dangerous to me than when he’d been just a heartthrob guitarist, because he’s turning out to be someone that I could … I stop myself before I can even think that thought because it’s a shortcut to certain devastation.
Bram has no interest in being serious about anyone. I suppose one day he’ll meet some beautiful supermodel or actress and then he’ll settle down and have loads of very photogenic children, but nowhere in that scenario is there a place for me, the transient Irish girl, unless my role is that of the plucky best friend. I see my mouth twist in the mirror and sigh heavily before exiting the bathroom with at least some of my armour intact.
This wavers as soon as I see him. He’s pushed the covers down slightly and the lamplight limns the sleek golden skin stretched tight over the dips and valleys of the muscles running down his torso. The sheet is caught on one sharp hipbone shadowing the v in his pelvic muscles.
It isn’t the male beauty before me that makes me catch my breath though, it’s the hand stretched out palm upwards that looks somewhat vulnerable and the dark shadows under his closed eyes. For a second he looks almost like a young boy and then he shifts and opens his eyes and the illusion is gone because there is nothing young about Bram’s eyes. They show only a very adult, almost a tarnished view of the world.
He shifts again. “A stòr,” he says so groggily that it’s difficult to hear him. He clears his throat. “Are you okay?” he asks shifting to make sure that I can see his lips.
“Yes fine why?” My voice is almost squeaky and his eyes narrow in an alert study. I inwardly curse because I don’t need him examining me at this point in time. Bram can be astonishingly perceptive and makes leaps in comprehension that don’t make sense to many. I don’t want him guessing at even an ounce of what I’m feeling. I don’t want his face to soften in pity, or for him to become stiff and cool in an attempt to get me over my crush.
“I’m fine,” I say in a more normal voice. “I was just wondering if I should leave you alone and let you sleep.”
He raises himself up on his elbows. “Why?” he asks in a sharp voice. “Do you not want to do this?” He looks almost hurt and I can see the beginning of him closing himself off in his eyes. “If you don’t want to sleep in with me that’s fine Alys. It’s not an obligatory part of lodging here.”
“No, no it’s fine.” I wave my hand dismissively as I move towards the bed and he automatically slides over to give me room and I think to give me the warm side of the bed. One strong arm lifts the sheet up and I slide off my dressing gown and throw it onto the chair by the bed. Turning back I falter as I see his eyes looking almost jade green and glowing with some emotion that looks t
ightly controlled. He’s staring at my body and looking down I let out a nervous laugh fluttering my hands and resisting the urge to cover my boobs. “Sorry this is the nightie with the most coverage.”
He stares at the aqua coloured lace and raises an eyebrow. “That …” he starts in a hoarse voice and then clears his throat. “That’s the one with the most coverage?”
I giggle slightly and then want to punch myself in the throat for making such a stupid noise. “Yes I should probably invest in some pyjamas.” He raises one eyebrow still staring hard at my breasts in the sheer fabric. To my horror I can feel my nipples start to stiffen and I know that he sees it because his eyelids lower and he runs his pink tongue across the fullness of his lower lip. This time I do raise my arms and cross my arms across my chest, and a faint smile crosses his mouth before it passes back into the slight sad droop that it’s had all night.
“Get in babe. I’m fucking knackered. I just want to sleep and sleep and get rid of this fucking day forever.”
My embarrassment and self-consciousness are gone instantly and all my instincts of comforting him race to the fore. I immediately slide into the bed next to him and as he pulls the duvet over us and we settle down into the welcoming mattress and soft pillows we both give out synchronised sighs of contentment.
“There is no better feeling than that,” I say softly. “Getting into bed when you’re so tired.”
He turns to face me lying on his side and sniggers tiredly. “Women usually have better feelings when getting into bed with me.”
“Like what?”
“Anticipation, ebullience, joy and unrestrained sheet clawing satisfaction.” He snorts, spoiling the cockiness by yawning hugely.
“Have you swallowed a dictionary?” I mutter and he laughs softly.
“That’s the last thing that gets swallowed in this bed.”
I punch his arm lightly. “Don’t be rude.” I pause. “I suppose this is the first innocent sleepover that you’ve ever had.”
He smiles looking at my face warmly. “This is the first I have to admit Alys. It’s definitely different.” He pauses and I think he says something about loving it but it’s low and his face is looking down at my arm that he’s caressing so I can’t be sure, and then because he’s yawned it makes me yawn too, a face splitting yawn. “Turn over,” he says, looking me in the face. “Take that hearing aid out and go to sleep love.”
I roll over obediently and take out my hearing aid reluctantly. I know it’ll hurt if I leave it in but I almost don’t want this to end curled up next to him talking, and without it I won’t even hear him sleeping.
I settle down into the blankets on my side and then I feel movement and he draws me back against him and I feel the whole length of his body against me, the hair roughened muscles and the long length of his hairy legs which entwine with mine.
I remain stiff for a second but then I feel the long, deep sigh that he gives and feel his face nuzzle against my neck and I give in to my feelings and cuddle against him making my muscles go lax. There’s movement and suddenly he forces one arm under me and the other around me and with his hands in front of me and held up so that I can see them he signs ‘thank you, sleep now’. I curl my fingers around his and squeeze and then he wraps both arms around me and draws me down into him and within seconds I fall into the deep valley of sleep.
I don’t know how long it is before I wake up but the light seems strong against the curtains covering the big windows. I don’t know what wakes me and I feel a moment of disorientation before a shaft of pleasure steaks through me like lightening and almost involuntarily my body arches as I realise that a big hand is cupping my breast, gathering the material of my nightie and rubbing my nipple with it causing a deep thrill to run through me.
My breasts have never been that sensitive before and I’d just dismissed them as not being part of my erogenous zone. Now, however I’m reconsidering this. I’m also considering giving them their own postcode in this zone because Bram’s fingers are like magic, cupping and sliding over my breasts like they’re a new musical instrument.
Bram! My incoherent thoughts screech to a halt. Oh my God Bram has his hands on my nipples. Before I can say something or even move away his warm body shoves up hard against me his hips pressing insistently into my backside, and at the feel of his very hard cock all my thoughts scatter and melt like sugar over a pancake and all I can do is feel.
I can’t hear but I feel the deep groan that runs through his body and then his hands move, such knowing skilled hands, their fingertips calloused from years of guitar playing. They catch on the lace of my nightie and trace fire trails over my skin as they slide over my body before clutching my hips and pulling me hard into him so that he can start the most sublime grind against me.
One hand abandons holding me to move in and then I break the tense silence to let out a choked moan as it moves in and slides into my panties, cupping my pussy and pulling me back against him while one finger slides through my wetness.
For a second my groan echoes in my ear half formed and choked, and then I feel his whole body go rigid against me. I hear his voice grumble something against my back where his face has been tucked. I think it’s my name but I can’t hear properly as my good ear is tucked into the pillow. For a second everything stills, the only movement his ribs pumping hard against my back and the rapid breaths which are hitting me on the neck, and then his hand shoots out of my knickers so quickly it’s like he’s been electrocuted, and with a quick movement he rolls me over to lie on my back while he crouches over me.
For a long moment he stares at me giving me a chance to note that he has red flags of colour over his sharp cheekbones and a very impressive erection. I stare back unable to drop my eyes from his burning gaze and wonder what he’s going to say. The silence stretches as his eyes roam over my body feverishly, seeming to take avid notice of the fact that my nightie is rucked up to an indecent level showing my long legs off and the lace of my knickers.
Then he groans and runs his hand over his face obscuring his expression as he speaks into his hand and I sigh as I can’t hear anything apart from muffled words like they’re spoken underwater. I’m quite often like this when I wake up from a heavy sleep. I make a move towards the bedside table where my hearing aid is, and he uncovers his face and sees what I’m reaching for and stretches over to get it for me. In doing so the full length of his body presses into mine and we both still for a second as if we’re in a dangerous situation that could explode at any minute, which when you think about it is true.
Then he levers off me like my body is quicksand and moves to sit next to me while I screw in my hearing aid. I take my time because I’ve seen his face and I already know what he’s going to say so I keep my eyes lowered in a pose of concentration, when really I want to shield my expression so that he doesn’t know how into him I was and how he could have anything from me at this point of time and he wouldn’t even have to ask nicely.
Finally I can’t delay any longer and hearing aid in I look nervously up at him to find a face of apology. Something in me sinks and I realise that a distant part of me was hoping that he’d realised that he had feelings for me. Well I suppose he has, but unfortunately regret and sadness are not the ones that I was hoping for.
Making sure that I can see his face he sighs. “I’m so sorry darling. So, so sorry. I never meant for that to happen. I just woke up and there was a warm, beautiful body next to me and nature took over. It wasn’t until I woke up properly that I realised who it was.”
He trails off no doubt realising that he’s just managed to imply that any marginally warm body will do and that I mean nothing to him. That it wasn’t me that got him hard, it wasn’t the feel of my body, the smell of my hair or my perfume on his sheets that worked its magic. No, for Bram O’Connell any hole’s a goal.
I struggle to keep my mortification off my face because unfortunately for me it was just him that got me hot. The silky feel of his hair on my body, th
e strength of his body as he moved me around to please himself and the warm scent of him that permeates his sheets.
I realise that he’s hovering waiting for me to speak to him, his hands nervously rubbing invisible patterns on his pyjama shorts. Sighing I make myself smile that cool smile that covers up my emotions that I’d learnt when I was in care, along with the knowledge that people are less inclined to let you go when you smile and don’t make trouble. I think that he senses something different about the smile because the intuitive bastard’s face falls and he slumps so I rush into speech, my voice cool and collected although I don’t know how. “It’s fine Bram. It was bound to happen. Like you said you don’t have many innocent sleepovers. I could have been anyone I know.”
He flinches and for a second he looks upset. “Not anyone,” he says earnestly. “I didn’t mean to imply that.”
I raise my hand and he trails into silence. I make myself smile at him again. “It doesn’t matter babe. It was just a mistake. Let’s say no more about it.”
My heart cracks a little at the look of instant relief that crosses his face. He wants to forget this so desperately like I’m not good enough to even want a sliver of memory to remain about it. “Are you sure babe? I don’t want anything to damage this friendship that I have with you. It’s …” He hesitates. “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me having you for a friend. I can’t bear the idea that we wouldn’t be friends anymore.”
My heart softens at his obvious distress and really he’s right. I don’t want this friendship to fall apart any more than he does. He’s the first real friend of my heart, someone that I don’t pretend with, someone that seems to see me, and obviously that means something to him. He had the chance this morning to push the friendship into something more and he didn’t want to, that’s obvious, so if all I have is friendship with him, well that’s not shoddy. I’ll just have to zip these other feelings away somewhere that he’ll never see or guess.
