It all seems a little clichéd but then life has been too serious for me in the last few months and I can imagine his has been serious for much longer than that. We need fun. Escapism. Laughter. The euphoria brought about by early dating and sex. So that’s how we should leave it. For now, anyway.
When we finally say goodbye, I turn my attention back to the meal in the microwave. The plastic carton has curled up at the edges which isn’t a good sign and the gloop turns out to be rhubarb, cooked and pureed from last year. It goes straight into the trash along with the handwritten card by the florist.
I wonder what Charles means. Sorry? Sorry for the display of ridiculous machoism outside the pub? Sorry for cheating on you? Sorry for asking to meet over the price of the house? Sorry for marrying you? Sorry for leaving? Oh, the list was endless. The short answer Charles, is no, I won’t forgive you for any of that.
The long start to the week leads to a very quick end. Finishing up on a Thursday night is definitely the way to go every week and I make that a goal to achieve in the next couple of years.
I’ve had a lot to deal with in the last few days. The car has sold, I’ve bought a replacement, which ends up being an Audi TT. Not quite the runaround I initially had in mind but it’s nearly new, lovely to drive and has a cup-holder. If I hadn’t already have my train tickets I would have driven it down to Oxford. Instead I’ve put it away in the garage.
The house hasn’t reduced in price and we’ve not had any more viewings. Apparently, Charles is not keen on reducing the price and I have a theory why and its pretty unbelievable. My theory is borne out of firstly the flowers but more clearly the voicemail I got. He was sobbing. Yes sobbing. Reminding me that it was our anniversary, yeah, I had forgotten, and telling me he had made a big mistake and thought we should try again. I don’t know whether he has revealed this to Crimson, the mother of his soon to be born child because I’m not even going there. No way am I engaging in a conversation with him about it. He’s made his bed, he can damn well lie in it. Cxxx.
Although actually I will have to sit face to face across a table with him very soon. We have to go to mediation as part of the divorce proceedings. My solicitor is putting it off though as she thinks we need a full report from the forensic accountant first. His updates have been quite alarming.
For now, I’m not going to think about all that. I’m going to relax and enjoy this train ride down to Oxford. Reading a book that I started on my Kindle seven months ago.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kane
I’m standing just beyond the ticket barriers and, over the top of the crowd, can just make out her train pulling in. I shift into a gap and see her leant against the seats in the middle of the second carriage.
The train takes an age to idle to a stop and then empty onto the platform. All the time I am staring at her and she back at me. I just want everyone to hurry and get out of the way; for her to hurl aside the frail and leapfrog over the young. I stand perfectly still while those around me jostle and wave. A smile on her face tells me she is happy to see me and I know it is a precursor to a great weekend.
When we finally touch there’s a slow passion, not hurried or light, but simmering and strong. The grip, the caress, the kiss, the stare, all setting a scene for how the next four nights and three days will pan out.
I take her bag and hold her hand as we exit the train station. It’s always manic here, so I spearhead a way through the crowd. I’m aware that my strides are long but I’m keen for us to get home. I have a singular mind right now and the journey from the station to my place is getting in the way of it.
It’s been hard to concentrate this week, the anticipation of being with Rosa dominating my thoughts, and now she is here I don’t want to rush anything, but… I need to be inside her. Now.
“How far is it?” she asks.
“Ten minutes, give or take. You okay walking?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Good.” I quicken my pace.
Because I’ll carry her if I have to.
We reach the front door and she stops and looks around at the facade.
“It looks very much like my house.”
I nod because I thought the same. The yellow sandstone cladding, large bay window and six-paneled door.
I climb up the stone steps two at a time and hold open the door for her to enter first.
It’s cool in the hall and the bare skin on my forearms tingle, the hairs standing proud. That is not the only thing that is proud. I felt it stir from the moment we touched and I’ve walked with the strain ever since.
“Can I get you a drink?”
Just say no.
“Erh, yes please. Water’s fine.”
I lead her towards the back of the house; my kitchen is probably like hers would have been before she put it into that monstrosity of an extension at the side of the house. It’s small but functional and the back door opens out onto a small walled garden.
I fill a glass with water from the tap and hold it out to her.
She lowers her lips to the glass and takes a sip, some water glistening tantalizingly on her bottom lip.
“Do you want to have a look around?”
Please say no.
“Yes sure, that would be nice.”
I could have done more than nice, if you’d have just said no.
I rush her through the living room and the dining room and indicate with my hand for her to go in front of me up the stairs. We won’t be coming down again anytime soon.
She is wearing jeans and they’re tight across her backside. If she’d chosen to wear a skirt then we wouldn’t have made it up those stairs. The way her ass sways from side to side in front of my face, would have left me no choice but to grab her by the hips and take her there and then, just like I did at her house.
But she is wearing jeans, and all that does is make my strain more uncomfortable.
I show her the bathroom and the other two bedrooms, leaving mine until last. It’s at the back of the house so the noise from the street doesn’t disturb my sleep and, although it’s not as big as the one at the front, I only have a bed and two lamp tables in here so it’s not cramped.
She walks across to the window and looks out over the garden.
“It’s lovely. Just how I imagined the Secret Garden to look when I was little.”
“Mmm.” I’ve not read the Secret Garden but understand her sentiment. I’m more interested in the woman that is standing before me, her golden hair highlighted by the light streaming in from the window.
I come up behind her and rub the side of my palm down her temple to her cheek, following the curve onto her neck. She tilts her head and the arc lengthens. I move my head in to the side of those golden curls and lightly run my lips down her skin.
Fuck.
It’s soft and warm and smells like summer. Like a pillow on a swing in the garden, heated by the sun.
I nuzzle into it.
The kiss becomes a playful bite and she pushes her head back onto mine.
Pressing my hands around to her breasts and caressing them through her t-shirt. The cotton rubs freely over the lace of her bra and I can feel her nipples pebbling beneath.
I suck at her neck and she grinds her backside against my denim imprisoned dick.
Yeah, the tour is definitely over now. In fact, I don’t think she’s gonna see any of Oxford, but she’ll be able to write a detailed tourist guide on the inside of my bedroom.
I tug at her t-shirt and push a hand up the gap onto her bra.
Yeah, she’s definitely aroused and I instinctively roll the peaked nipples, tweaking them through the lace. Her groans urge me on and my hand moves under the fabric, kneading the softness of her bare breasts. I push the other hand down to the apex of her legs, roughly working the heel of my palm onto her jean enclosed clit.
Yep. Once these clothes come off they’re not going back on for the rest of the weekend.
I need instant access, because this is ki
lling me right now.
I spin her around and undo the button of her jeans, pulling on the zip and pushing them down her thighs and calves.
The white lace on her panties is see through and when I draw her t-shirt over her head, I see that so is her bra.
I stand back to take in her form and the teasing underwear she has chosen to wear for me.
She looks amazing and I’m gonna work around it.
I pull off my shirt and lower her down onto the bed. She hitches her legs up and I kneel between them, pulling her panties to one side and slowly inserting my finger. As it disappears I look up to her face, loving the way she is watching me with hooded eyes; her bottom lip pulled up to the side between her bite.
I take hold of her hand and guide her fingers to where mine already are. I want her to feel what I’m feeling. The warmth, the silky wetness.
Then slowly, I move her finger from inside and circle it onto her clit, before guiding it back in and then out and around and back in. I watch her nub swell and glisten before moving my mouth over it, sucking her finger and then her clit.
Her moans are almost constant now and I know she’s not far off. I want to make her come as hard as she did the first time I did this to her.
Her hips start to buck and I hold her still with my forearm, feeling her jerk up against it. I’m not going to let her body shake this off, she’s gonna come like a train and I want to be front seat when she does.
My tongue is laving greedily now and her moistness is urging me on. I know she is close and pull her finger out so I can taste her when she comes. As soon as I stop holding her down, she rises at the waist and it’s fucking magnificent.
I’d forgotten about my dick until now and it is growing again. I have to release it from these jeans before I do myself some permanent damage. Yanking them undone, I push them down my thighs. Rosa is still writhing around on the bed with an immense smile on her lips.
I gently lay my dick into her crease and move my hips back and forth so the head is rubbing against her clit. She starts jerking again and her eyes open up to see what I’m doing.
“Again?” she questions, like it’s not allowed.
I smile and nod my head once.
I can feel the pre-cum wetting the end and making it slide effortlessly over her. I have to hold it with my hand now to make sure the pressure on her clit doesn’t let up.
Her moans are low and guttural as she comes again. Before she is spent it’s my turn and I know it’s not going to take long, but I’ll make sure I last as long as her orgasm does.
I slide in and her moan deepens. I can feel her fluttering onto my dick and the sensation is fucking amazing.
She spurs me on. Shouting and swearing. I slam in, right up to the hilt. There’s nothing like a blaspheming Rosa to make me come hard.
“Fuck,” I bellow a little louder than I’d intended.
Her legs come up behind me and cross at the ankles, keeping me deep as I pulse inside her.
My elbows give way and I collapse on top of her, panting heavily into the side of her neck.
“Wow. Just wow. The stars. Wow.” She breathes into my ear.
I guess she’s referring to the orgasms she’s just had and when I pull back from her I guess that’s what the look on her face means too.
She’s totally spent. Laid flat on the bed. When I raise up on my arm and lean over to place a kiss on her lips, she doesn’t even respond.
It takes a good few minutes before her eyes open to me and a smile grows on her lips. She is coming out of her post-orgasm stupor. Finally.
“You do know I have no intention of showing you any of Oxford. I’ll tell you anything you wish to know and even send you some photos if you like, but this weekend we’re staying in the confines of these four walls.”
She giggles. “Fair enough.”
“Good, now we’ve got a mutual understanding on that one, how does take out food sound?” It’s way after dinner and my stomach is growling.
“Pretty good.”
“Do you like South American?”
“What, like Mexican?”
“Technically that’s central American so no, I mean like Brazilian, Peruvian, Chilean, Argentinian.”
“No idea, if it’s like Mexican, then yeah.”
“Hmm, I tell you what we’ll give it a go and if you don’t like it, I’ll get pizza.”
I pull on some boxers and go to ring the food order through. I pretty much order in or eat out every night so know a lot of menus off by heart. This is my favourite though and I normally pick it up on my way back from the gym, which is on the same street.
They ask if I want my usual, which I do, but double up on the quantity. That gets me a sassy remark from the owner, who threatens to deliver it herself to see which brazen hussy has stolen her man.
I jump when Rosa slips her arms around me from behind and she smiles at the lip I’m getting over the phone.
She’s wearing one of my t-shirts and it’s a vision I’ve seen before. On Michelle.
“Are you okay?” She asks, when I put down the phone, her forehead wrinkled. “Do you mind me borrowing a t-shirt?”
I cough, finding my Adam’s apple stuck with emotion in my throat. “Yes, it’s fine.”
I hold her into me so she doesn’t catch a glimpse of my tears.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rosa
The food is delicious and we eat it sitting in Kane’s walled garden around a table he has made himself from a tree trunk.
His house is pretty much full of stuff that looks recycled or handmade. Bookcases and reading nooks. Table lamps and leaded lights in windows. It’s a complete contrast to his day job and I’m still a little intrigued about that side of him.
“So how does it work... this research malarkey? Do you get like a salary and stuff and do you have to work regular hours? Do you even have a boss?”
“Yes, more or less and yes.”
“Ah okay that covers that one off then.”
He laughs. “No, it’s pretty much like a job. I’m committed to it and I have a team that I work with. Some are still students, others are post-grads like me. We all work to a clear objective and have review meetings with the Dean, who oversees all the research. We’ve been refining our work over the last couple of years and this semester we submit.”
“So, this summer will be one long party?”
“Possibly. There’s still the gardening business, which I’ve promised I’ll help out with. Although it’s not really a chore, I actually really enjoy it. Trying to tame mother nature is a challenge and I love the way she fights back.”
“Does that mean you will be up in Yorkshire all summer?”
“Pretty much.”
I feel the warmth of that thought radiate throughout me. Either it’s that or the exceptionally hot chili-pepper I’ve just bitten into.
“So, when does summer start for you? Not that I’m desperate to have you around or anything.” I look up at him coyly.
“As soon as I’m done with the paper. It should be in two to three weeks. Which reminds me, tomorrow, being Friday, is still a working day for me. So, I wondered if you wanted to join one of the tours of the University? I can catch you for lunch that way. Or if you want to, you can just lounge around in bed and I’ll meet you there when I’m done?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Well as much as the second option sounds very nice I think I’ll go with the first, especially if I get to see where you hang out.”
Belle comes out in to the garden to join us and Kane starts feeding her tidbits from his plate.
“So how did you end up down here?”
“Well it was the one thing Dad did do right by my brother and I. He insisted we study hard and we both went to university because of him. My brother studied marine biology and for me it was life sciences. I was fortunate enough to secure a place here and then stuck around after. Although that’s not so unusual, most scientists stay in academia, at first, anyway.”
/> “Where’s your brother now?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “The Arctic.”
“What? Isn’t that all ice?” I actually shiver at the thought.
He grabs the blanket that is folded on the back of his chair and wraps it around my shoulders.
“Yeah, but there are marine creatures underneath it. Some pretty alien-looking ones by all accounts.”
I pull a face.
“And what does your sister do. Poppy, isn’t it?”
“Yep, she’s in Florida with her American husband and gorgeous daughter. Oh yes of course you’ve met Poppy and Lily.”
“Ahah.” He swallows his mouthful of food, before continuing, “although I didn’t know she was just visiting. Do you get out to see her much?”
“We’ve been a couple of times…” I trail off thinking about the hideous trauma of visiting Sky and Poppy with Charles. Sky and Charles are like chalk and cheese, and looking back on it, Poppy only put up with him because he was my husband.
“I think you would like Sky, he’s laid back. A bit like you.”
“I bet he’s not as good looking though.” He laughs and pulls me onto his lap. “Are you suitably nourished now then?”
“Yes, why?” Bemused by the meaning behind his question.
“Because I’m thinking about taking you back to my bed and ravishing you again.”
Which he does. More than once.
I awaken the next morning with a smile on my face. The curtains are open, which seems to be a thing when we sleep together. I didn’t hear him get up but I can smell coffee which is a good thing, he must still be about.
I pad through to the bathroom to brush my teeth. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a bachelor’s bathroom and it makes me smile to see no fancy grooming products or superfluous gadgets.
The creaking of the floorboards must have alerted him to my awakening and I hear his footsteps on the stairs.
“Morning sexy.” He smiles. “I’ve brought you coffee.”
“Ooh good.”
It’s not just a regular cup, it’s a huge mug that I have to utilise both hands to bring safely to my lips.
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