Before We Fall

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Before We Fall Page 9

by Grace Lowrie


  ‘Hans Zimmer’s The Dark Knight soundtrack.’ Bay didn’t look his usual intimidating self as I stood looking down at him. He looked tired and defeated, his gaze resting on the floor.

  ‘Do you know, I’ve never once seen you wear shoes?’ I said.

  He stubbed his cigarette out on the parquet floor and then, in a practised move, flicked it backwards out through the open window.

  ‘Do you even own shoes?’

  He sighed. ‘Yeah.’

  I sat down cross-legged in front of him and his eyes met mine at last. ‘Do you ever get out of here?’ He shrugged. ‘Not often.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘No need.’

  ‘Really? Well, what do you do for exercise?’

  Raising one eyebrow he looked at me and my face heated with realisation. ‘I believe I got a cardio work out in last night.’

  ‘I’m not sure that counts – do you even remember it?’

  He sighed. ‘I have a home gym, Cally – I can run or row for miles without leaving the flat – I don’t have to go out to stay in shape.’

  ‘So there’s no other reason? Nothing else stopping you from going out?’

  ‘I’m not fucking phobic, if that’s what you’re asking.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘OK, let’s get out of here then.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why not? It’s a beautiful night and it’s stuffy in here – let’s go get some fresh air.’

  ‘Where do you wanna go?’ he said suspiciously.

  ‘Not far… what about that lovely big garden you’ve got downstairs – it seems a shame not to make the most of it.’ He shifted uncomfortably, picking at a smear of dried paint on his knee, but his hands looked cleaner than usual. ‘I’ll dance for you if you like… or not… whatever.’

  He nodded, almost to himself, and used the wall at his back to drag himself up onto his feet. ‘I’m still not putting fucking shoes on.’

  I smiled. ‘OK, I’ll go barefoot, too.’

  It was strange to be going somewhere with Bay; to be walking side by side and leaving through the door together; like normal people. ‘Do you want to get a sketchbook or something?’

  ‘No.’

  An awkward silence descended as we waited for the lift and Bay radiated tension. I was starting to wonder if he could really do this when the lift arrived with a ding, making us both jump. The doors slid open and Bay entered without hesitation. Turning to face me, he leaned against the back wall, spreading his arms wide and resting his hands on the handrail; deceptively relaxed. His eyes were mocking as I joined him in the small space, the doors closing behind me.

  The shiny floor was cool beneath the soles of my feet and my skin prickled. Bay’s distinctive, but now familiar, scent soon pervaded the air around me; musky tobacco and soap with a hint of turpentine. As I inhaled it seemed to spread inside me, warming me, making me ache somewhere deep within. In an attempt to hide the effect he was having on me, I closed my eyes against his intense gaze. I wanted to say something light-hearted or reassuring to break the silence, but I didn’t trust my voice to sound normal.

  And then the lights flickered, the lift lurched to a stop and I opened my eyes with a breath of relief. But it was short-lived. Bay stared at the number display above my head, his eyes wide with alarm. There was no ping – no opening of doors – nothing.

  ‘You are fucking kidding me,’ Bay said. I spun around and surveyed the doors, helplessly, but there was nothing to see; no explanation; the lift had simply stopped. ‘No, no, no,’ Bay growled, pushing past me and stabbing at the buttons on the wall with a finger. He hit the emergency button and it lit up red, but that was it – there was no accompanying ringing alarm, no reassuring voice to say that help was on the way, no phone or other means of contacting the outside world. ‘Fuck!’

  A sense of panic swept through me and I fought it back. ‘What happens now?’ I said.

  ‘The night duty guard down on reception will see it’s stuck and call out the engineer.’ Bay had his back to me.

  ‘But it’s Sunday night…’

  ‘Yeah but there’s always someone on duty – they’ll see it.’

  ‘OK,’ I said. He was breathing hard and I started to worry that he was losing it. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘No I’m not fucking OK!’ He rounded on me. ‘You and your stupid fucking ideas – this is your fault.’

  ‘I’m sorry – I didn’t know this was going to… does it happen a lot?’

  ‘No. Never. It never fucking happens. The other lifts, yes, but not this one – I make sure it’s regularly maintained, like clockwork, so that this can’t happen. I can’t fucking believe it,’ he added, turning back to the wall panel and prodding at the buttons again.

  ‘Try to keep calm,’ I said. As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. He turned on me again, his eyes flashing dangerously, darkly dilated with raw anger, his voice raised.

  ‘Don’t fucking tell me to keep calm! Why don’t you just fuck off? I was fine until you showed up with your poncy clothes and your superior attitude.’ I flattened myself back against the wall to create some space between us, but Bay loomed over me, his breath hot on my face, his fists clenched at his sides. ‘And I wouldn’t be stuck in this fucking thing if you’d just stayed away from me, minded your own fucking business.’

  ‘I was just trying to help…’

  He smashed his fist into the metal wall beside my head, making my teeth rattle, and I flinched in terror silently praying he wouldn’t hit me. ‘I don’t need help! Why do people keep saying that? I can’t be helped! There’s no fucking cure for what I have.’ His choice of words surprised me and I recognised the fury in his eyes for what it really was – fear. Bay was messed up and hurting and now he was trapped in a confined space dangling above an abyss. I needed to distract him. Without another thought I did something I’d secretly wanted to do for weeks – I kissed him.

  His mouth parted in surprise; his lips soft and warm and his body frozen in shock, but he didn’t pull away. Raising my hands to his stubbled jaw I tentatively probed his mouth with the tip of my tongue, tasting him, testing him, and then, with a savage growl, he was kissing me back; roughly grabbing my bum in his hands and forcing me close up against him. I gasped, thrilled by the all-over sensation; the hard heat of his body pressed to mine, the possessive grip of his hands, and the greedy ravaging of his tongue. As troubled as Bay was, and as much as we fought, I could no longer kid myself – he was staggeringly sexy. On some carnal level that was new to me, I wanted him. And despite everything he said, right now, he wanted me, too.

  Abruptly Bay pulled away from me and I sucked in a gasp of much needed air. ‘What the fuck.’

  His words stung and I tried to reach for him again, but he backed away, increasing my growing sense of rejection.

  ‘You want me to fuck you, is that it?’ There was a hard edge to his voice – he was still angry.

  ‘No,’ I said, gripping the handrail with both hands, my whole body aching, throbbing and screaming “yes!”

  ‘No? You sure…? So I don’t make you hot…?’ He stepped closer, slipping his left hand under the hem of my dress and dragging his fingers up my bare thigh. ‘I don’t make you wet?’ I closed my eyes to shut out the mocking expression on his face, while my legs parted for him, seemingly of their own accord. He cupped me there, discovering my arousal for himself. ‘I think you do want me to fuck you – why don’t you just admit it?’ he murmured, brushing his lips lightly along my jaw.

  He was toying with me, the arrogant bastard. Gripping the handrail tighter I stubbornly shook my head, while my breathing deepened and my legs began to tremble. Deftly hooking my knickers aside he stroked me with his fingertips. The sensation was extraordinary and I bit back a moan.

  ‘Say it, Cally. Say you want my cock inside you.’

  ‘No.’ I knew I should tell him to stop, or push him away, or both.

  Cupping my l
eft breast, he used the pad of his thumb to rub my nipple through my clothes and it stiffened eagerly at his touch. I vaguely wondered if his hand hurt from punching the wall, but then he eased two fingers inside me and I groaned, appalled by how spectacularly good it felt.

  ‘Say it.’

  ‘No – you’ve just been with another woman,’ I pointed out in disgust.

  ‘So?’ He pressed his mouth to my other nipple and nipped me damply through the fabric. I cried out and he began to slide his fingers in and out of me. ‘Look at me,’ he said.

  I shook my head again, my face burning and my breathing erratic.

  ‘Cally…’ he growled in warning. Afraid that he might stop, I opened my eyes and glared at him and he chuckled humourlessly. ‘You hate me right now, don’t you?’ he said, increasing the steady thrust of his fingers.

  ‘Yes,’ I hissed.

  ‘Good.’

  At last he returned his malicious mouth to mine, kissing me again, and my hands relinquished the safety of the handrail and plunged into his hair; my fingers raking across his scalp and clinging to him as my internal muscles wound tighter and tighter. My mind fought to deny what was happening even as my body physically begged for more. Grinding down against his hand, I rocked my hips, shamelessly meeting him thrust for thrust, harder and faster as I raced towards release… and then I came; crying into his mouth; my whole body shaking and my legs buckling as waves of pure pleasure eclipsed all else.

  As my orgasm abated and my senses returned, I gradually became aware that Bay was holding me up with one arm around my waist. Transferring my weight into my own wobbly limbs again, I straightened up and he withdrew his fingers. He may have brought them to his lips, but I couldn’t be sure, I was too ashamed to look at him. I might never be able to look at Bailey Madderson ever again.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  I sucked my fingers on impulse. Fuck me, Cally was sweet – I’d never been so aroused. I feared I might lose my mind as she was detonating in my hands – the smell of her, the eager probe of her tongue, the damn sound of her moans and her hands in my hair urging me on… fuck… I’d never been this hard in my life. But she didn’t want me – not really. She was better than that; too proud to admit any attraction; too proper to stoop to my level. And I didn’t blame her for that – not really.

  But what now? I was stuck in this fucking lift with nowhere to go and all I wanted to do was strip her naked, bury myself balls-deep inside her and feel her whole, goddamn beautiful body wrap around me. Fuck. This was gonna be the longest night of my life.

  While she was catching her breath she smoothed down her dress and combed her fingers through her hair; steeling herself. And now, at last, she opened her eyes and looked at me. Her cool blue gaze was a shifting mix of shame and defiance, her lips flushed and swollen from my kisses. Neither of us spoke, and the silence hung heavily in the stuffy confines of the lift. Slowly she sank to the floor, her knees drawn up and arms wrapped protectively around them. I followed suit so that I was sitting across from her, my bare toes millimetres from, but not quite touching, hers. I leaned my head back against the wall and released a long slow breath, slowly flexing the bruised knuckles of my right hand and silently willing my uncomfortable hard-on to subside.

  ‘Can we just pretend this never happened?’ she said.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I mean… getting stuck in a lift is enough to make anyone crazy.’

  So that was how she wanted to play it. ‘Sure.’

  ‘I don’t want you to think that I—’

  ‘I’m already over it.’

  ‘Good, so am I,’ she said, bitterly.

  We sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes. I could still smell her, taste her, and hear her orgasm echoing in my head. I wished I was tired enough to fall asleep, but I was brutally wide awake.

  ‘Do you have the time on you?’ I said.

  ‘No, sorry.’

  A voice suddenly erupted into the space making us both jump: ‘Hello? Is there anyone there?’ I scrambled to my feet and pressed my head to the panel on the wall.

  ‘Yes we’re here, where the fuck have you been?’

  ‘I don’t know if there’s anyone in there, or if you can hear me, but just to let you know, I’ve sorted the problem and we should have you out of there in a jiffy.’

  ‘Thank fuck,’ I muttered, turning back to Cally, who was also on her feet, the relief evident on her face. A moment later the lift jolted into action and continued its descent to the ground floor.

  A middle-aged engineer in blue overalls was there to greet us as the doors finally opened and we stepped out into much fresher air. ‘Howdy.’

  ‘What the fuck happened?’ Iwas fighting the urge to punch him.

  His smile faltered and he glanced down to where he was wiping his hands on an oily rag. ‘Just a minor power cut,’ he said. ‘It was long enough to stop the car but not enough to trigger the re-start mechanism… just a glitch.’

  ‘So what are you doing to ensure it never happens again?’

  The engineer sighed. ‘Look mate, I know you’ve just been through a bad experience and I’m sorry about that, really I am, but it’s one in the morning and I—’

  ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Cally said, stepping between us with her hands up, just as I was preparing to deck the guy. ‘Is the lift safe to use now? Because I’d like to get back upstairs.’

  ‘Yep, perfectly safe,’ he said.

  ‘Great, thank you.’ Marching back into the car, she pressed a button and folded her arms across her chest as the doors closed. We stared after her, listening to the whirr of the lift as it rose smoothly to the top floor.

  ‘Nice girl,’ the engineer commented.

  I glared at him, jabbing the button to recall my ride.

  ‘Just saying,’ he said, warily stepping back away from me.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  As I danced I imagined Bay’s touch searing my skin; his fingers inducing a sultry heat as they tracked up my thigh. Arching my spine I let my head fall back, exposing my neck to the burn of his kisses, oblivious to those around me. In my mind, Bay’s dark eyes followed my every move as the undulating rhythm of Bitter:Sweet’s ‘Drink You Sober’ swirled around the club.

  No-one had ever manipulated my body like that before; dragged an intense orgasm out of me so quickly, and with such apparent ease and disdain. It was almost as if Bay was trying to punish me in that lift; using my own body against me, in the most pleasurable of ways – and now it was all I could think about.

  Until now, Liam was the only guy I’d ever been with. All my prior relationships had fizzled out before they became physical; my shyness and fear always holding me back. Liam was polite, patient and considerate – inherently gentle and always reluctant to pressure or offend. The exact opposite of Bay. With Liam it was always missionary, but with Bay… anything might be possible. I’d hardly scratched the surface, barely been granted a small taste, and yet the man in that lift had aggravated, challenged and aroused me like nothing else on Earth.

  Of course I hadn’t actually seen Bay since then – I’d gone back to avoiding him and more than a week had already passed. My bodily attraction to him unnerved me and I had no intention of getting romantically or sexually involved with anyone, let alone someone so clearly volatile. At one point I’d been afraid he would hit me for goodness’ sake. Bay had violent tendencies – the fist-shaped dent in the wall of the lift served as a daily reminder. No, I was not naive enough to get involved with a person like that.

  But ironically, our heated encounter had helped my stripping massively. I no longer had to pretend to feel sex-starved, desirous and horny – Bay had awoken all that within me. I now danced naked with newly-found abandon and the tips were rolling in. I could earn several hundred pounds a night simply by fantasising about my neighbour as I worked. Extraordinary but true.

  *

  Bay was leaning against the door to our building wh
en I climbed out of a taxi in the early hours of the morning. He was wearing headphones and a dark hoodie, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his combats and his shoulders hunched against the rain. It was a shock seeing him outside on the pavement, making me stop mid-step and my pulse race.

  ‘You OK, love?’ The driver said through his window ‘You want me to wait until you’re safely inside?’ Maybe not all London cabbies were heartless after all.

  ‘No it’s OK, thanks; I know him.’

  ‘OK, love, if you’re sure…’ He didn’t sound convinced, and watched us in his rear-view mirror as he slowly drove away.

  Bay slipped his hood and his headphones down around his neck as I approached him.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ I said.

  ‘Waiting for you.’ He looked tired; the shadowy sockets of his eyes matching his unshaven jaw, but he was still as disturbingly attractive as ever.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘About what happened in the lift the other night – you were right – it made me a bit crazy.’

  ‘Oh.’ I waited, but he didn’t say anything else. ‘So… was that it?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Was that an apology?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Though I tried, I couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across my face. I’d missed him; in all his frustrating, moody, petulant glory. ‘Apology accepted.’

  ‘Good. I need you to come back so I can paint you again.’

  ‘I don’t know, Bay, I… there are other things I should be doing with my time here.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Well, when I knew I was going to be in London for a while I made a list of all the things I’d like to see and do, and I haven’t got very far with it yet.’

  ‘A list?’ Now it was his turn to look amused.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘Oh, you know; the usual touristy things.’

 

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