Boxer Next Door
Page 65
“I’ve watched you since my arrival. You keep to yourself.” Her words were spoken with more of an accent now, and Ben didn’t know if it was the wine or if she was simply more relaxed.
“I do, yes. There isn’t much point in getting to know people that are only going to be in your life for a few days before disappearing to never be seen again, is there?” He sipped at his own glass, leaning against his elbows on the table, their hands almost touching. He knew how to play at seduction.
She glanced at his hand so close to her own, a deep breath giving away her thoughts. She was considering what she should do. He hadn’t touched her, but the promise of it was there. Would she do it?
His eyes took her in, her indecision, waiting for her to make up her mind. He wouldn’t push her, he wasn’t that kind of guy, but he wouldn’t dissuade her either.
She reached out with her pinkie, the long nail covered with some kind of beige nail varnish. When she brushed his hand he knew she’d made up her mind. Ben looked into her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. He wouldn’t push.
She became bold then, shifting to cross her legs the other way, moving closer to him, her face only inches from his. Her pink tongue came out, wetting her lower lip, as she pondered what to say next.
“You’re a very handsome man.”
“You’re an even more beautiful woman.” He looked at her questioningly, waiting for her to go on.
“I want you. I’ve watched you, waiting for you to say hello but you haven’t. To at least tell me your name, but you haven’t. Is that the old British politeness or are you simply not interested?” Her eyes closed as she spoke, but opened again, bolder, somehow wiser.
“Oh you’re quite tempting, Arabella. Quite.” He took her hand then, massaging her long fingers. “As I said, there isn’t much point sometimes, getting to know people. Especially when it’s part of the fantasy of coming here, don’t you think? I’ll gladly tell you my name, if that’s what you want. I don’t think it is though, is it?”
She could only stare at him, wondering how he’d seen through her so correctly.
“I’d be more than happy to fulfil your fantasy, if you don’t mind being fucked against a wall, Arabella.”
She’d glanced at the wall quite often since asking if they were alone, a bare spot in the bougainvillea seeming to catch her eye. He’d guessed that was her fantasy, a passion filled moment spent taking exactly what she wanted from a virtual stranger before heading home to her boring life.
The sun went down at last, leaving them under a blanket of stars, Soft lights came on, solar lights, and the courtyard became a magical place filled with shadows.
Arabella gasped, her pulse racing in her neck. Ben watched, and when she inhaled sharply without leaving he knew that’s what she wanted. A hot fuck against a wall, with a man not afraid of saying dirty words, words that would make her hotter the longer he said them.
“Come here.” He pulled her around the table, pulling her down to his lap. She settled in, her arms circling his neck. Without another word, he kissed her, his hand settling on her hip, holding her there as he pressed himself into her cotton covered bottom. “Is this what you want?”
She pushed her face into his neck, her breath coming in gasps as she fought for control.
“Do you want my dick inside of you, fucking you Arabella?”
“Yes. Please.”
There were no more words spoken then as Ben let the pain of his lost wife drift away and Arabella forgot she was married. There was only passion as he picked her up, carrying her to the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
She kissed him back hungrily, her hands roaming over him as his tongue flicked over hers. A delving hand found her naked beneath her dress, wet and ready for him. Ben broke away from her lips and pushed at her dress, lifting her higher with strong arms to take a perfect, dark nipple into his mouth.
He wanted her, he wanted the pleasure she offered, and he took it as he pushed his shorts down, a condom gliding onto his cock before sliding into her with one smooth, easy stroke. He never fucked without protection.
“Fuck.” He spoke the word for her, but also couldn’t stop it as she enclosed his hard flesh with wet heat. Even through the numbing latex of the condom he could feel her heat, the way her muscles clenched around him.
She responded in Italian, words he couldn’t understand, but caught the meaning of as she began to move in his arms. He pressed his hips into her, trying to hold her still so he wouldn’t drop her.
She stilled, her moment of euphoric escape calmed, as he soothed her with whispered words.
“It’s alright, Arabella. We have all night, and I want to spend it with you. There’s no rush.” She looked into his eyes then, bring her head up to stare at him. She wanted what he promised, she was greedy for it.
“Take me to your bed then.” She’d changed her mind, a quick dirty fuck against the wall wasn’t what she wanted after all.
He let her ease down the wall, and took her to his guest room upstairs. There she sprawled on the bed, her legs opening for his exploration. He went to her, parting her legs further, opening her to him, for his mouth.
Her fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue split her open, adoring her in a way her nervous inhalation told him she’d never been adored before. This is what she really wanted, the kind of sex she’d never had before, the kind that left her a screaming mess as she came uncontrollably.
Ben explored her slowly, his fingers stroking her in places she’d never been stroked, his tongue tasting what had never been tasted. Her body relaxed as he gave her pleasure, her words coming more frequently, her fingers tangling in his hair.
When her hips began to move, he reached for a nipple. When she gasped, he squeezed it, and when she inhaled sharply, he sucked at her throbbing clit, giving her the first orgasm of her life, though he didn’t know it. Arabella came apart beautifully, making him even harder as her sounds of pleasure filled his ears.
Ben didn’t let her rest as she came back down to earth, instead he lurched up, entering her in one swift motion. The condom helped to contain his control, but Ben gave all of himself to her as her hips followed his pattern, as she sang out wonderful sounds of surprise and pleasure. She hadn’t been a virgin but she might as well have been.
Ben paced himself, knowing she wouldn’t be done with him yet. He took her hands in his, pressing them over her head as she looked up at him with a mingling of gratitude and desire. She gave herself up to him completely, trusting him to take her to heaven again.
Her legs wrapped around his waist as she whispered to him, dirty words he knew instinctively she’d never spoken before. With a grunt of triumph, he thrust into her one last time and gave her what she wanted.
“Come inside me, make me yours. Take me, dear stranger. Take me and fill me with only you.”
Portugal had been one of the first places Ben had visited with his wife when they’d bought a VW camper van. Driving from the ferry-port at Santander in Spain, they’d taken a leisurely drive to get down to the Algarve. Stopping off at various rustic villages on the way, it was a trip Ben would remember forever. For Eloise, it would be her last, but together they’d made it so memorable. Ben’s steel-grey eyes began to moisten as he thought back to happier times. He’d given it his all to help her fight the cancer and it was actually Eloise herself who suggested he should come back to Portugal alone. She’d known he’d fallen in love with the place. He could feel her presence there, and hear her tinkling laughter as the breeze blew gently though the courtyard and tickled the wind chimes hanging from the porch. Here is where she wanted him to be.
Arabella was gone now, their act of passion locked away in his mind, but the memory of his wife was always near the surface. Ben sat at the table in his courtyard, lost in memories that plagued him with a loneliness that no woman had been able to fill.
The apartment next door had been cleaned, the beautiful young woman’s presence now completely obliterated.
The new arrivals should be turning up in an hour or so, he thought to himself, trying for distraction. He would open the side gate and keep an eye out for them, as he felt duty-bound to do. Taxi drivers from the airport easily got lost in the tiny lanes that surrounded the house. The meter would keep ticking as they went to the golf club for directions, and then get lost again coming back down. Directions from the owner of the property were always vague. She would email her clients telling them how it was impossible to miss with its bright white and blue frontage covered in bougainvillea. They still somehow missed it.
No matter how often Ben told her she needed better directions, the landlady never quite got it. Most houses in the area looked as charming as the next. And most of them were had white frontages and were crawling with a variety of colourful blooms that might or might not be bougainvillea. Nope, Ben knew her directions would be as good as useless. If Ben was around to wave the taxi down, they might arrive before the sun had swapped places with the moon. He’d lookout for passing taxis once he’d finished his dinner and the remains of the wine.
Ben went over to the side gate and opened it wide. It was a solid steel door that made the courtyard secure from the outside world once it was closed. He went back to the table and cleared away his dishes and glass. No rush, but he didn’t want his place a mess if he had to suffer visitors for any length of time. It took just a few minutes to have everything cleaned and back in its proper place. With the steel gate open he could hear any passing traffic.
With the dishes cleaned, he refilled his glass, grabbed his smart phone, and went back to the garden. He lined up a playlist on his phone, and as the strange arrangements of the “2 Cello’s” began to play, he wandered from plant to plant, watering them as he sipped his wine.
Chapter Fourteen
Walter had delivered his wife Lillian and their daughter Mary to Charlotte airport. Neither of them had ever been to an airport and certainly never flown. The tension in the truck was electric as they arrived. Lillian had spent most of the drive giving Walter list after list of “Do’s and Don’ts.” Walter had nodded between each burst and stared straight ahead as he drove. He was worried. Not for himself. He and Albert would be quite happy for some peace in the house. No, he was worried that Lillian would find a way to offend someone and end up in some foreign jail unable to speak the language and never be released. He nodded again, responding to another barrage of instructions from his wife but also as he pondered her in a jail cell and him peacefully home alone with the dog. The last thing he wanted was to lose his wife and daughter in a strange land. For all its faults, life was good in sleepy West Virginia.
Charlotte airport was alive with people rushing, most dragging heavy luggage and looking nervous. Cab drivers and airport staff milled around amongst the fractious flyers, trying to be helpful or calm stressed folk. Too many stories and too many scary “what-ifs” would always keep people jittery in airports and no amount of soothing from helpful staff was going to change it. Nobody in the airport had ever experienced anything worse than interminable waiting, but this only served to heighten the tension. Lillian was no different. She had read only the other day about a plane that being diverted from this very airport. It had actually been due to a blocked toilet, but of course the story changed from kidnapping to hijacking, to whatever else her imagination could conjure.
They unloaded from the truck and made their way to the terminal buildings. Walter got as far as the door and dropped the bags onto a baggage cart.
“This is where I have to leave you, folks. I’ve got the bags on here but I think you’ll have to take them inside,” Walter said, shuffling nervously.
“But Walter, of course you have to come in with us. What if we’ve forgotten something?” Lillian replied, looking desperately into his eyes.
“Lillian, honey, if you’ve forgotten anything now, it’ll be back at home. I can’t just zip back and fetch anything. You’ve checked your stuff a million times. You have everything you need, baby. Now, I don’t think I can leave the truck parked where it is or I might get towed. Last thing I want to do is go hunting for the truck in the middle of Charlotte. Come here and give me a hug.”
“Dad’s right, Mom. Security and all that stuff. Only folks going on a plane are allowed through to the gates. If we forgot anything, then it’s just bad luck. We’ve got our tickets and passports. I’m not sure we’d be able to carry anything else anyway. These bags weigh a ton,” Mary said. She was nervous to the point of being terrified, but here they were and they were going through with it.
Lillian gave Walter a big hug. “Wish us luck, Walt darling, and take good care of the house and Albert.”
“Don’t you worry your head about here. Just get there safe and get yourselves back in one piece. I don’t know how I agreed to this madness, but here we are. Charlotte. Even the folk here speak funny. Can’t imagine how bad they’ll sound over there,” Walter replied, giving his wife a reciprocal hug then holding his arms out to Mary. “You take damn good care of your mother, ya hear me, madam? And make sure you have a good time while you’re doing it okay?”
“We will, Dad, I promise,” Mary said, squeezing her father tightly, not wanting to let him go now they were at the point of no return.
Walter watched as Mary and Lillian dragged the heavily loaded luggage cart into the airport. Soon they were swallowed up in a crowd of travellers. He gave a wave at the throng of bodies in the hopes that his wife and daughter might see it and slowly he turned and walked back to his truck.
Lillian and Mary were in the process of doing a lot of things for the first time. First time at an airport, first time at a security check point and eventually, the first time sat on a large passenger aircraft. The queuing, the checking, the queuing again and the eventual boarding had left them hot, tired and totally head-spun. They took their seats on the plane and Lillian gazed nervously out of the window. She’d hoped to see Walter somewhere out on the tarmac waving at them but of course he wasn’t there. As the huge plane engines fired up, mother and daughter gripped each other’s hands and stared at each other.
“This is it Mom! We’re actually doing it!” Mary squealed.
The plane taxied onto the runway and in a few moments was charging down it.
“Oh my dear God, what on earth have we done?” Lillian muttered, eyes fixed on the runway disappearing alongside them. Mary gently released her mother’s hand that was crushing hers. In an instant, they were airborne and steadily climbing into the skies. Charlotte sprawled out below them getting smaller and smaller.
“I hope the driver has a map. It’s a long way without one, I’ll bet,” Lillian remarked as she relaxed her grip on the arm rest and tried to gently sit back in the seat.
“I’m pretty sure the pilot knows where he’s going, Mother,” Mary replied, a huge grin on her face. They’d survived take off and she was loving it.
“Well we always think that about your dad. I’ll bet you he gets lost going home,” Lillian retorted.
The flight after that was long and uneventful. Lillian fell asleep soon after the plastic meal had been served and Mary slipped her headphones on to watch a movie. It was some hours later that they were both awake and alert as the plane began its descent into Amsterdam.
The airport in Amsterdam was without any doubts, huge. Mary and Lillian were in total confusion as they followed the herd of passengers to the terminal buildings, managing to get through immigration without a hitch before trying to find their connection to Faro airport in Portugal.
“What about all our bags, Mary? We’ll need to go and find them first,” Lillian said, panicked as she looked around the terminal. A constant chatter of a thousand different languages bombarded her brain and apart from her own, she couldn’t hear any English.
“They move the bags from one plane to the next, Mom. We don’t need to do it. It’s on the label where the bags are going. I hope,” Mary replied.
“Well, ‘hope’ might see them on a plane to Timbuctoo as well.
I’ll feel a lot happier knowing they are with us.”
“Mom, these people do this all the time. Relax. Now somewhere in here is the gate for our next flight to Portugal. We don’t want to miss it, do we? Or we’ll never see our bags again,” Mary muttered the last bit as she dragged her mother in what she hoped was the right direction. It wasn’t.
After ten minutes of wandering around the huge concourse they found themselves outside looking in. A fleet of taxis stood in a row behind them. Cars and vans were speeding in all directions, taking travellers back and forth into the huge city of Amsterdam.
“Well, somehow I think we missed our door. Maybe we could get a taxi to the apartment?” Lillian sighed. “Do they deliver cases to the apartment?” she asked, bewildered and now incredibly tired.
“Mom, no! We’re outside. We’re in Holland, Mom. We’re going to be in big trouble. Come on, we have to get back in somehow and find the terminal or we’ll miss the flight.” Mary dragged her mother by the arm again, back through sliding doors they’d just exited.
There, looking amused and officious, stood a Dutch security guard.
“I don’t know how you did it, ladies, but you seem to have evaded our most efficient security by breaking into the Netherlands,” the guard chuckled.
“Oh good grief, Mary, we’re in big trouble. I’m too old to go to jail,” Lillian gasped, looking at her daughter in terror. “I’ve never been to jail, I can’t go now. Not even a Dutch jail! Do you think they’re full of water?”
Mary stepped up to the guard and gave him a pleading look.
“We are so sorry, sir. We seem to have got lost. We are trying to get to Portugal and can’t find the gate. All our luggage is going to disappear if we don’t find the plane,” Mary explained, not realizing that her frantic words made little sense.