by Billy London
“Whatever I say, you’ll have a reason for it,” she said, sighing with annoyance. No, she did not want sex from her husband that badly. “Never mind.”
She turned on her back, that itching need to be thoroughly and most filthily used stemmed by crossing her ankles and pressing her thighs together.
In moments, Niels hooked her leg into the crook of his arm and slid deeply into her. “Turn that tempting ass on me, and you know every time I will want to fuck it. Let me…”
After a simple, permissive nudge of her hips, he drove into her deeply, roughly, alternately pinching her clit and then reaching up to tightly pinch her nipples. Damn him and his cock. But the drag of his hot, thick length inside her was too much to resist. She begged him for more, her body alight with need and sensation. He obliged her, pulling her to her hands and knees to bury himself into her, his palms curved around her shoulders. Of course she couldn’t think straight. Of course he wanted to have sex instead of explain himself properly. He released her to rove his hands and lips over the globes of her buttocks before he kissed her soaked thighs and sucked on her clit. When she came, it sent her into such a daze, she barely felt him plunge between her thighs to reach his own climax.
Limbs liquefied and trembling, she watched Niels reach for tissues and tidy her up. “Now,” he breathed. “Do you want to talk about promises?”
She shook her head. “I want to sleep. If you saw the show your children made of themselves, you’d know how much I deserve to.”
He relented and curled her against his chest. “They’re their mother’s children.”
Filtering her fingertips through the hair on his torso allowed her to stroke herself into sleep.
It always began with the little ones. The bigger promises then became easier to break into little pieces.
Chapter Thirteen
It took a few weeks for Alec to get in touch, but when he did, Stella found herself at a loose end. The curse of having a self-sufficient business was the lack of input that was required from her. Additionally, having her children staying with their father left her hands irritatingly free. Alec’s voice was as warm as Highland whiskey as he asked if she had the time to talk.
“Of course. Aren’t you at work?” she replied, frowning at the time.
“I’m already at work but I had five minutes to spare and didn’t want to keep you on the hook longer than necessary.”
“Thoughtful of you,” she said, surprised by it. Few men were.
“Can we do a trial this Saturday? Are you free? I know it’s presumptuous of me to ask, you must have a thousand invitations…”
“Not really. So yes, Saturday’s fine. The boys will be with their dad, so I don’t know who I’m going to practice on…”
“Me, naturally.”
An odd sensation travelled through her at the idea of being so close to the man. It was a little intimate, essentially playing with his face. “Do you want to come to me or should I…?”
“No, I have everything with me, so I can come to you. Is three in the afternoon all right?”
“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll see you then.”
“Looking forward to it. Bye, Stella.”
It took her a moment’s hesitation before she called Niels. “Yes, my dearest former wife?”
“Are you going to the Croft party with the boys?”
“I’ll pick them up after, but hanging around a bunch of ten-year-olds, really isn’t my cup of tea. Is this because you’re doing your Day of the Dead spiel for the children?”
“Yes…”
“I won’t make any trouble for you. Not that I could anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, if there are more like Rash then, I won’t be there to create a scene. We’re over that, remember?”
“I remember me not smashing a table into your head at the restaurant the other day. So I cry progress, yes.”
He laughed and she felt her cheeks heat with pleasure. Damn it, why couldn’t the man get out of her system?
“It is progress for all mankind. Are you around this evening for the boys to call you goodnight or should I try to exhaust them as soon as possible?”
“Option A, please. I always want to wish them goodnight.”
“Of course. I’ll speak to you later.”
“Bye, darling.” She heard him pause and slapped a hand over her mouth in irritation. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
“And I miss that habit.” He ended the call before she could say anything else remotely embarrassing. Oh dear. No progress at all.
Distracted by her slip-up to her ex-husband, Stella forgot all about Alec until he turned up on her doorstep with a bag of screen makeup goods in one hand and a picnic basket in the other.
“Hi there. And you forgot I was coming around…” he trailed off, as he took in the oversized jumper that slipped over one shoulder and was slit on both sides, exposing generously rounded hips and a pair of shorts she only ever wore to clean. She hadn’t bothered with a stitch of makeup, and an elaborate scarf covered her hair.
“A little bit, I’m so sorry. Come through to the living room and I’ll…make myself presentable.”
Alec sidestepped her, his gaze still focused on her bare legs. “You certainly know how to make an impression.”
“Weren’t you married to a model?” she threw over her shoulder as she made for her bedroom.
“Exactly!” he called after her.
After a brief and brutal examination of herself in the mirror, Stella exchanged the shorts for jeans and the cut-out jumper for a long-sleeved Breton printed top. The scarf found itself on the other side of the room and she twisted her hair into a loose bun. “The least you can do for the poor man is put on some makeup.”
She quickly dusted on some powder, blusher, and after a moment’s hesitation, shrugged off the idea of mascara. As she jogged down the stairs, she smoothed on lip balm and shouted, “Do you want a cup of tea?”
“I brought some stuff with me,” came the return. “To say thank you.”
Frowning, Stella stepped into her living room and found Alec setting up the contents of his picnic basket. What was this? He gazed up at her and bit down on his bottom lip. “Overkill?”
“No, no, it’s really nice. Thank you. What did you get?”
“I just didn’t want to put you through the pressure of feeding me on top of making me look disturbing.”
Stella held up her hands. “You’re making me feel very tired. I’m going to get some tea. If you want some, great. If not, don’t worry yourself.”
Alec grinned. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“I have two male children. Don’t have time.”
She returned with a large mug of tea and sat opposite him. Alec looked slightly forlorn on her sofa alone, but he had unpacked a veritable feast. “Where’d you go for all of that?”
“Harvey Nicks,” he admitted, pushing a pot of olives and feta cheese toward her. “No point in going in halves.”
Stella lifted her mug to drink rather than reply, or pick at any of the food. The extravagance of the spread didn’t make her hungry at all.
“So,” Alec said into the silence. “What are your boys up to today?”
“I suspect Niels is going over some mathematics tests with them. For the entrance exams.” When people had kids, parents really needed to be warned about the sleepless nights that had nothing to do with feeds or teething and everything to do with their children’s first steps into education, and thereby setting up the rest of their lives.
“Oh, where are you applying?”
“White Hart College. Stanford Grove Secondary. There’s this ridiculous private Catholic boys school that my mother is pushing for them to go. Only because my brother went and he’s alumni.”
“I know what you mean. St. Josephs. I was alumni there a thousand years ago.”
“Not quite a thousand,” Stella admonished. He really was rather good-looking. Nowhere nea
r old enough to refer to himself as a thousand years old.
“My ex was looking at schools in France, but I nixed that. What the fuck would I do in France?”
Stella shrugged uncomfortably at the curse. “I dunno. Eat cake?”
A small smile flickered across his face. “Sorry. Still a sore subject.”
“When did you split up?” Stella asked, glancing at the clock and wondering if it was too early for a drink. It would probably be the best way to stay focused during his sob story.
“Just over a year. I said at the school it’s been a difficult year for me and Short.” He said the nickname with a grin. “I’m sure there’ve been words spoken about it.”
“Well, the lack of photographers hanging near the school told the story.”
“Not that my wife did the run,” Alec added bitterly, pushing a tub toward her. “Steak tartare, if you fancy.”
“No thanks,” Stella refused gently, wondering why he was exposing the separation story to her. “So how does she split her time between Short...I mean Philip and her work?”
“You don’t want to know what happened?” he asked, popping an olive into his mouth.
“No more than I suspect you want to know why me and Niels broke up.”
“I heard that was all his decision. Lots of malicious rumours going around that one or both of you were unfaithful.”
Stella wasn’t surprised. She, however, was slightly disgusted by how easily he spread it around. “Untrue. Normally people use that to deflect from their own sins.”
Alec bowed his head. “No one is innocent any more. Every relationship breaks down on the part of both sides. I don’t know if you’re already aware, but there are a lot of men who are secretly pleased that you’re single.”
“Who said I am?” she answered. That brought him up short. “Let’s not drag over the details of our sordid tales. Let me see what you brought with you.”
He handed over the bag of goods and Stella read carefully through the back. “I’ve got all my stuff in my office. But the light is better in the kitchen and the stools are higher.”
She stood up and he did so at the same time. “Shall I take some of this through?”
“Maybe later. It’s difficult to do any sort of application if my client is chewing.”
Within a few moments they were set up in the kitchen, and Stella was gluing a fleshy silicone strip to Alec’s well-defined cheek. “This is actually a really good idea. I’m just not sure how many kids will want to sit still for at least half an hour. None of them are going to deal with contact lenses.”
“I will. I want the full effect.”
“You can manage those yourself. I can’t deal with people’s eyeballs.”
The phone rang and Stella put down her makeup brush to answer it and place it on speaker.
“How’s the George Romero makeover going?” Niels asked.
Stella smiled, pleased that he’d remembered better than she had. “Call me on FaceTime in about five minutes and you can judge. How’s the tutoring going?”
“I think we’re lucky our children have improved on our genes. Now they understand what they need to do, they’ve got it.”
Stella sighed in relief, and began to dab more foundation on the fake wound. “Good work.”
“Have a chocolate in celebration. The boys and I are going out to eat. Just wanted to let you know first before you heard from them and cried spoiling.”
“You know you spoil them.”
“If they get into St Joseph’s, you know we’re going on holiday.”
“That was a joke!” Stella cried. “Don’t you dare drag me to Disneyland!”
“It’s happening. Queues. Disney money. Florida…”
“You’re sick.”
“Without doubt. I’ll call you later.”
She ended the call and, still chuckling, she carried on with Alec’s face.
“You two get on…well,” he murmured as she dabbed fake blood into the wound and added a little ochre to make it look infected.
“Only took us two years. It’ll happen for you as well. Honest. Because you love your kid.”
Alec lifted a hand and touched it to her wrist. She halted and stepped back. “I admire you. So many people I talk to are all about how to get back at her and make her suffer.”
“It’s not worth it.” Stella said with a shrug. “Have a look.”
He picked up the mirror and sucked in an impressed breath. “I look suitably disgusting.”
“Marvellous. Good to know my work is appreciated.” He gave a sad little smile and pity wormed its way through Stella’s frosty little heart. “If you want to talk, at least I’ve been there and done that to tell you revenge is pointless.”
“What I really want is to go out. Like out. Old school, as if I never got married out.”
It sounded like unadulterated joy. A chance to reclaim her lost youth, which were spent drunk and sometimes a little high at all-night drum and bass raves. “There are all sorts of retro nights around. I could get a few of us together to go.”
“Girls?” he asked, his accent intensifying with suspicion.
“Not all. But some. It’ll be fun.”
“And less likely to be interpreted as a date.”
“That, too. People have big mouths.” She tapped in the last bit of blood under his eye to streak over his greyed and hollowed-out skin. “Dancing is the best stress relief.”
“Dancing to music and not that rot children are obsessed with.”
“Grumpy old man in session,” she laughed. “Done.”
“I like to think we’re starting.”
Stella packed away her tools. No point reacting to something that seemed entirely throwaway.
***
Philip’s birthday party was hard work. Keeping the fifteen boys entertained while they had their zombie makeup applied required nothing less than a sterling effort. Her own children were anxious to play laser tag in the assault course Alec had managed to install into his impressive garden.
It wasn’t a garden as much as it was acres of land. In among a climbing frame, there was a trampoline, a monkey bar set, some faked Army-type hillocks for the boys to take refuge and command their assaults. Once the game was won—by Philip’s team—they all came inside for homemade burgers and fat chips. Alec tried to be healthy with a nice coleslaw on the side, but not many of the boys were interested. Only because the twins caught their mother’s expression did they partake in some vegetables.
With white zombified contact lenses in and a torn jumper that had fake blood tapped into it, Alec looked completely the part.
“You’ve done amazing,” he said, taking her by the arm and leading her to a downstairs room. “Let me write you the cheque before you accuse me of making you forget.”
“Appreciated,” Stella smiled lightly. “Niels is going to be here in a bit, so I thought I’d make myself scarce.”
Alec glanced up from his cheque book, a frown shifting the silicone scars. “I thought you guys were okay?”
Stella sighed heavily, pressing the tips of her fingers to her forehead. “There is only so much I can do. And if I don’t have to spend time in the same vicinity of a man I am still frustratingly in love with, then I won’t do it.”
Alec rounded the desk to stand in front of her. “You seem so together.”
“I’m not. It’s a front because I promised my children I wouldn’t fight with him anymore. I told myself not to make it easy for him to see how much I wished everything was back to normal. It’s near impossible to bring myself to the reality of knowing he only calls me because he has to and not because he wants to hear my voice. I can’t do it all the time. I just can’t.”
Alec leaned forward and cradled her face gently between his palms before he pressed his lips to hers. Stella’s eyes widened and her eyebrows flew off into the stratosphere. He lifted his head and she blurted, “I thought tears were a turn-off.”
He winced. “I hoped the distraction w
ould be nice.”
“Erm…” She felt far too disconcerted to feel anything else about the kiss. Actually, it felt a lot like infidelity.
He leaned toward her again, but a thump on the door followed by, “Dad! Someone’s at the door!”
With a soothing stroke over her arms, Alec insisted, “Don’t run away. I’ll be back in a bit.”
She covered her mouth with her hand, and then looked over to see if Alec had completed the cheque. He hadn’t signed it. Christ alive! What was wrong with him? She wanted to get out! As if his kiss was good enough to keep her rooted to the spot.
“Stella,” Niels’ voice made her jump sky-high. “Haven’t you finished?”
“Hi!” Now the irrational guilt threatened to overwhelm her. “Just waiting for payment.”
“What’s the matter?” he asked her. “You look rattled.”
“I’m fine. It’s probably just a migraine coming.” Alec followed him and entered the room.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Here’s your cheque.” He signed it and handed the piece of paper to her, but before he released it, he asked, “Are we still on for that retro night?”
Stella risked a glance at Niels whose face turned to Medusa-induced stone. “Um, sure.”
“Great I’ll call you.” He gave her a kiss on both cheeks. “Drive home safe.”
“Sure. I’ll just get my stuff. See you…erm, both.”
She collected her things and hurriedly said goodbye to the twins before leaping into her car. How she longed for the day when being innocently in the room with another man wouldn’t feel like she was cheating on her ex-husband.
Move on, she reminded herself. He has.
***
Niels watched Alec for a moment, and then said lightly, “I’d highly recommend, for your own health, that you don’t see my wife as a prospective notch on your bedpost.”
Alec raised his eyebrows. “Not sure you have a say in that anymore, seeing as she’s your ex-wife.”
“I do. And let me tell you, she’s a lot sharper than the bimbos you normally strike for. I won’t have to touch you. She’ll decimate you all on her own.”
