She was standing with her back to him, huddling against the car and sheltering under an umbrella, trying to stay dry. He didn’t recognise the umbrella, so he guessed she must’ve borrowed it from her sister. She was always losing umbrellas. It was something he often teased her about. God, he loved her so much – adorable quirks, and all.
He arrived at the car, kissed her quickly on the cheek, fished out his keys, and unlocked the passenger door. “Hey, sexy lady. Thank you for waiting!”
He wanted to kiss her properly, but they needed to get dry, so he left the door open for her to climb in, then ran around to the driver’s side, unlocked the door, and dived in out of the rain. Verlaine allowed the leather seat to take his weight as he sat there soaked through and momentarily frozen. He came back to life and struggled out of his wet lumberjack shirt, then mopped the water from his face and hair. He paused mid-wipe as Sam leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He gasped as she delved her tongue into his ear. Unable to resist her, he closed his eyes and turned to kiss her on the lips. She tasted of wine and he didn’t recognise her perfume. Maybe Gemma had sprayed it on her to test out a new scent. And they’d probably had a few drinks – that’s why she’d left the car at Jack’s place.
“It’s so good to see you, baby,” he said, between kisses. “Those text messages made me seriously horny.”
“Let’s fuck here,” Sam whispered.
Verlaine exhaled excitedly. The prospect of making love to her here in this beautiful car threw his lust into overdrive. Obviously the exhibitionism of last night had awakened a spark inside her. Thank goodness he’d parked down this dark side street. He was suddenly eager for them to make their mark on this car before it got sold. And obviously Gemma didn’t need to know.
He gazed at her in the dim light. It was too dark to see her properly, but he didn’t get the chance to look anyway, because she surged forward and kissed him passionately. His eyes closed and his arms fell around her.
“Climb aboard, sexy lady,” he whispered.
“I will!”
Verlaine’s cock strained desperately, as Sam clambered onto his lap and pressed herself down on his erection through his jeans. His hands grasped her hips and he couldn’t resist moving her back and forth, rubbing her against his cock. It felt magical.
“I love you,” he said.
Sam chuckled and ground her hips teasily against his cock. He sat there in awe, captivated, as she tore her sweater over her head, revealing her gorgeous breasts, which bulged out of her Wonderbra directly in his face. He was dying to suck her nipples and touch her naked body, so he reached up to help her out of her bra. But wait a minute…
A splinter of worry jabbed into his skull. Those weren’t Sam’s breasts. She was smaller than that and perter, too. Feeling surreally outside of himself, he raised his eyes, praying to see his beautiful girlfriend’s face. But reality tumbled away as his eyes revealed the nightmare on his lap.
“Rebecca!”
Verlaine instinctively pressed himself into the seat, determined to put as much space between her breasts and his face as possible.
She smirked seductively. “Oh yes, Verlaine! I’m so glad you feel the same way – I’ve missed you so much!”
“No, wait! What the fuck are you doing? Put your fucking clothes back on!”
She pushed her breasts into his face and ran her fingers through his damp hair. “Aw, you’re having second thoughts, but it’s okay. I know from all those flirty text messages that you want me!”
He turned his head, feeling like Ripley trying to avoid contact with the Alien Queen. “That was you!”
“Of course it was me. Who the hell else calls you ‘Elf’? That’s my pet name for you. Why do you –?”
Rebecca didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence, because the passenger door was suddenly yanked open, and Sam jovially stuck her head in.
“Hey, baby, I’m sorry I –”
She surveyed the scene before her, frozen, as if someone had pressed ‘pause’.
Verlaine’s heart thrashed painfully in his chest as he leaned away from Rebecca. “Sam, this isn’t how it looks.”
Sam’s eyes were glued to Rebecca’s exposed bra. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words came out.
Verlaine gripped Rebecca’s hips and tried remove her from his lap – hoping to seem as unaffectionate as possible. “Get off of me, would you?”
Rebecca sounded offended. “But, Verlaine, you told me you wanted me! Why did you lead me on!”
Sam’s expression cracked. She shot Verlaine the most hateful glare he’d ever seen on her beautiful face, then she withdrew from the car and slammed the door.
“Get off of me now!” he shouted.
Rebecca scrambled onto the passenger seat and Verlaine threw open the door to chase Sam. He leapt out into the pouring rain, and saw her struggling with an umbrella as she stormed off down the road.
“Sam, baby, wait, please!”
He ran to catch her up. She didn’t halt. His raw emotion flailed in his stomach, merging with the artificial beams from the streetlights above and making him feel revolting. What had he done!
“It was a misunderstanding,” he said, jogging alongside her. “Rebecca sent me some suggestive text messages – I thought they were from you. I thought she was you.”
Sam halted suddenly. She looked as if she was about to punch him. “Suggestive text messages? You thought she was me! Verlaine, how could you?”
“They were from an unknown number.”
“Okay, but what the fuck was she doing with her tits in your face?”
“Sam, I’d never cheat on you – you’ve gotta believe me.”
Sam opened her mouth to spit some angry words at him, but she stopped herself as Rebecca ran over to join them.
“Verlaine, you asshole!” she shouted. “You led me on, then changed your mind when your girlfriend caught us! You’re a coward and a sleazeball! Sam, you and me should stick together – he’s trying to play us off each other. I bet he set this whole thing up.”
Sam glared at her, breathing heavily. Then she focused back to Verlaine, who was getting soaked in the rain – which he supposed he deserved.
“Okay, I understand about the texts,” Sam said. “But you were practically sucking her tits in the front seat of your stupid fucking car! How could you!”
Verlaine chewed his lip sheepishly. “It was dark. I didn’t look at her properly. I’m sorry, baby. I love you. I’d never do this to you.”
Sam sounded defeated. “You just did.”
She started to walk away. But Verlaine wasn’t letting her go without a fight. He’d plead on his knees if that’s what it took.
“Wait, Sam, please.”
She turned again. “Leave me alone, okay! I obviously can’t trust you. Maybe Rebecca’s right – you are a sleazeball! Just stay away from me!”
Sam swivelled on her heel and strode off. He called after her, but she didn’t react. He’d never seen her this upset before and he felt treacherous to think it was because of him. But he hadn’t done it on purpose! It was a misunderstanding. Surely she must know that?
He was torn between running after her and obeying her instructions to leave her alone. His guilty feet seemed to be glued to the pavement, so all he could do was watch as she flagged down a taxi on the main road. She didn’t look back as she climbed inside. The taxi drove away, and Verlaine’s heart sank to his knees, swelling with a gloomy drizzle.
As her cab disappeared from sight, his desperation turn to irritation. Why didn’t she believe him? And how dare Rebecca make him look like a cheating slimebag?
And had he really just kissed another woman, when the only one he wanted was his beautiful Sam? He felt her pain crunch miserably inside his soul, wishing he could comfort her, but knowing he was in serious shit.
“Verlaine?”
He turned and saw Rebecca standing there, looking hurt. She was sheltering under her umbrella from the driving del
uge, but there was something different about her today. Now that they were at the lighter end of the street, he could see her properly in the dimness.
“You’ve done your hair like Sam’s.”
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t brush it or straighten it. Do you like it?”
“No.”
Verlaine swept his gaze over her. She wasn’t wearing her coat, but she’d managed to pull on her sweater. It wasn’t the sort of thing Rebecca would usually wear – which would’ve been some expensive designer top. This one was cream and had little pink flamingos all over it. Almost identical to the one Sam had been wearing the day she’d met Rebecca.
In fact, it looked a bit tight on her…
“Is that Sam’s sweater?”
“Oh, yes. She said I could borrow it.”
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
Verlaine refrained from calling her a liar after everything that had happened. He just wanted to be alone now – or better still, he wanted to catch up with Sam and beg forgiveness. He started to plod back towards the car, unsure how to handle this situation.
It’s not hard; find her and apologise, you idiot!
Rebecca followed. “Will you take me back to the house?”
“I’d sooner drop you in the river.”
She chuckled. They arrived at the T-bird, so he automatically opened the door for her.
“Get in. Have you been drinking, by the way?”
She chewed her lip, then burst into tears. “Yes! Oh, Verlaine, I really miss my daddy! I just wanted you to comfort me. I didn’t mean to cause all this mess!”
Verlaine’s heart filled with gooey sympathy and he reached out to put out his arms around her, but he quickly came to his senses. Crying women crippled him – it was his Kryptonite – and Rebecca knew that. Yes, she probably was upset about her late-father’s death, but she could be a manipulative bitch when she wanted.
“Just get in. I’ll take you back to the house.”
She gazed at him in the pouring rain for a beat, maintaining the hurt victim act. Then, when she realised Verlaine wasn’t falling for it, she shot him daggers and sulkily climbed in the passenger seat.
He got in, too, then turned the key in the ignition. “You need the comfort of your mom’s arms, not mine. I’ll take you back to the house. And then I’m gonna find my baby. She needs me now. Not you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Paul felt snug lying on the sofa with Scott in his arms. They’d spent the afternoon putting up their homemade Christmas decorations, and now they were having a well-earned glass of mulled wine. And later… who knew what might happen.
Paul sighed contentedly and squeezed Scott tightly. He loved this little home of theirs. They’d moved here when Paul had quit his high-earning job to go into business with Sam, leaving behind their opulent Chelsea apartment. Although he’d been apprehensive about downgrading, he was actually much happier living in this cramped little terrace house, because his self-employed hours meant that he could get home at dinnertime and spend the evenings with his beautiful husband – or down the pub with their friends. No more late-nights at the office or tension headaches.
The two of them were slowly decorating each room, and the living room was yet to be done – apart from the Christmas paper-chains and glitter-covered cardboard stars, of course. This meant that the previous owner’s flowery wallpaper and threadbare carpet glared like a beacon of garishness against their arty décor. Scott and Paul didn’t care, though. As long as they had each other and enough money to live comfortably, they were happy.
Paul was currently enjoying the sensation of being supported by the squashy sofa, as Scott’s body weight pinned him down from above. It made him feel secure. Scott groaned dramatically as the song on the radio faded into Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas. They both laughed.
Paul kissed Scott on the side of the head as his thoughts turned to lust. It was freezing outside, and it sounded as if it was pouring down with rain. But the heating was on full blast in here, and Paul hoped to make things even hotter still. He kissed Scott again, then moved his hand down to rest on the front of Scott’s jeans. Scott snuffled contentedly. Paul ran his finger up and down Scott’s zipper and unsubtly rubbed his own semi-hard cock into Scott’s back.
Scott giggled. “Is there something you wanted, cupcake?”
Paul grinned. “How did you guess? I was trying to be so subtle.”
Scott’s cock firmed in his jeans – where Paul’s fingers were still loitering. Even after all these years together, Paul couldn’t keep his hands off Scott’s gorgeous cock. It was a perfect specimen. Sometimes it was a little too big when they treated themselves with full-on anal, but it was definitely worth such discomfort to receive Scott’s ultimate gift. It was such a joy to play with it, and to suck it. It was smooth and attractive – just like the man himself.
“Would you like a quick one off the wrist?” Paul asked in a smutty voice.
Scott laughed suggestively. “Yes please!”
He pressed his hand down on top of Paul’s, and rubbed his erection against Paul’s palm, grinding his hips hungrily. He moaned and turned his head to kiss Paul, then he fumbled with his zipper and tugged out his magnificent erection – easing down his jeans and underpants to give himself plenty of room.
Paul wrapped his fingers around his husband’s gorgeous cock and gripped it hard, making Scott gasp. Paul wanted to lick the pre-cum and give Scott a blow job, but Scott seemed happy enough lying on top of him, so Paul started to move his wrist in a rhythm; slow and sensuous to begin with – and then much faster. Scott reached down to cup his balls, giving himself some extra pleasure as Paul continued to pump his shaft. They’d known each other years now, and had grown up exploring each other’s bodies, so Paul knew precisely how to give Scott a quick shot of pleasure – or how to draw things out. Today he decided to be quick. Still moving his hand back and forth, he ran his thumb firmly over the back of the head – delivering a shot of joy directly into Scott’s pleasure zone. Scott groaned and tensed, and Paul realised Scott really was coming quickly tonight. His head dropped back against Paul’s shoulder and he ejaculated, grinding his butt over Paul’s erection, which Paul hoped would be attended to next. Paul quickly grabbed the hem of Scott’s T-shirt and yanked it up, knowing Scott was far too gone to do it himself, then he watched the spume of semen shoot out of Scott’s cock and splat stickily all over his wonderfully toned stomach.
Scott panted for a few seconds, reclining backwards over Paul and relishing the post-cum sensations. Then he turned his head – which was still resting on Paul’s shoulder – and grinned.
Paul kissed him on the nose. “You’re adorable.”
“Thank you, cupcake. Sorry I was so fast – I was thinking about last night and things just happened!”
“It’s no problem. I love you – and last night was fucking horny!”
Scott sat up slowly, holding up his T-shirt. “I guess I’d better clean up before I do you, my sweet. Don’t wanna get cum stains on the sofa again.”
“Yeah, it took me ages to scrub those out last time!”
Scott cupped his hand around the sticky discharge and stood to grab a tissue from the coffee table. Paul’s cock twitched with desire as he watched his husband rub his toned stomach clean – there was something highly erotic about seeing that; it was so intimate.
“I’ll be with you in just a sec, my horny boy,” Scott said.
Paul laughed. He lowered his hand down towards his flies and started to undo them. Perhaps if he pulled his cock out and just sat here patiently, Scott would get the hint, and come over and give him a no-hands blow job. Paul glanced around for something to bind Scott’s wrists with. He was about to grab a ribbon from the bag of Christmas wrapping paper, when some bastard knocked at the front door.
Paul’s heart sank. “No!”
Scott smirked. “That was good timing – a minute earlier and I would’ve been left hanging!”
“Ve
ry funny. I’ll get rid of them. You’re in no state to answer the door!”
Scott laughed and dabbed the cum off his cock.
Paul propelled himself off the sofa and towards the living room door. “I bet it’s the bloody Salvation Army, threatening to sing a carol unless I give them cash!”
“There’s some change by the door, muffin. Put that in their tin and shut the door before they start singing! I’ll be here waiting to repay the favour! Hurry back!”
Conscious of his hard-on, Paul made his way down the shabby hallway to the front door. He heaved it open with the intention of giving the carol singers some money to shove off, but his jolly mood nosedived as he realised it was Sam.
She was dripping like a drowned rat on the doorstep, looking as if she’d just been dragged through hell.
She whimpered. “Hi, Paul.”
He instinctively drew her into his arms. “Sam, oh my god, what happened?”
“I just caught Verlaine having sex with Rebecca!”
“What!” Paul gazed down at her and waited for more information – surely this must be a wind-up.
Sam opened her mouth to explain, but her expression cracked, and she burst into tears instead.
Paul’s mind raced with confusion. He felt like he’d stepped into a different dimension where reality had been jumbled around the wrong way. He had no idea how to handle this, so he shouted, “Scott!”
Scott rushed out to the hallway. “Yeah? Sam, oh my god, what’s wrong?”
She eased herself out of Paul’s arms and stepped over to snuggle into Scott’s instead. He wrapped her up in his embrace and Paul vaguely hoped he’d managed to clean himself up properly, in case he accidently got her sticky.
“It’s Verlaine,” Sam said. “I went to the car to meet him and he was in there with Rebecca on his lap. She was in her bra. I don’t know… I can’t…”
Sam’s voice buckled and she burst into tears again. Paul and Scott exchanged a look of disbelief.
“Verlaine wouldn’t do that,” Paul said. “I’m sure there must be a misunderstanding.”
Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5) Page 11
