‘There's a couple over in the corner. He's slowly turned her away from him by holding her around the waist. He was slightly rough, but she smiled. She liked it. She must enjoy it because she's still smiling.' I couldn't think straight. I wanted him inside me. I had never wanted anything more. ‘He's slammed himself into her, and now he's…he's…'
‘Tell me, baby,’ Danny pleaded as he kneaded my breasts together.
‘He's fucking her from behind. She's moaning and it's getting louder. She must be close. God, he's fucking her hard and he's squeezing her. Pushing her cheeks together and apart with his hands so he can get a better view of himself inside her,' I gasped.
‘Would you like me to do that to you?’
‘Yes.’
‘With all these people watching?’ I nodded as he pressed his groin into me. ‘Why, baby?’
‘I want them all to see how much you want to fuck me. I want them to see how fucking hot you are when you get lost in me.’
With that, he thrust his cock into me.
‘Fuck, your pussy draws my cock in.' He was frantic in his thrusts, but his hand on my hip was still soft and fitted against me like a missing jigsaw piece that had only just been found. I knew then that I wouldn't want any other cock inside me. Only his, which was scary and magnificent at the same time. His cock topped them all. His cock was my moment of clarity. ‘You're fucking amazing,' he panted. Soon we were both reaching our climaxes; me first and him a very close second.
Danny cradled me. I enjoyed the feel of his hands stroking my back lightly as I gathered myself. I lifted my head, allowing Danny access to my neck. He kissed, licked and nibbled the sensitive skin as I shook in his arms. His hand curled under my chin until he lightly pulled my head back to him. I was suddenly aware of Matt sitting back in the chair directly in front of us, a glass of whiskey in one hand, his cock in the other.
‘I was too late to join you. Pity,’ Matt smiled. Danny’s hands circled my breasts in what appeared to be an attempt to shield me from him. ‘How about we take this into another room?’
Danny pulled me back to him and cradled my body. ‘Give us a minute, Matt.’
‘Of course,’ he said, holding up his hand.
‘I need to know Kate’s OK with this,’ Danny added as he pulled me towards him. ‘She needs to feel comfortable here. Give us some space to talk.’
‘Absolutely. But from what I saw, she's feeling very comfortable,' Matt said, laughing as he leaned forward and stroked his hand down my leg. My body tensed and Danny clasped my shoulders.
‘Take your hand off her,' he said quietly, but with force you couldn't mistake.
‘Whoa!’ he said, holding up his hands. ‘Go and have a drink; loosen up a bit, mate. It isn’t like you to be so protective,’ Matt smiled as he took another drink. ‘You’ve been more than happy to share before.’
Danny immediately started stepping into his jeans before grabbing my discarded top and skirt and flinging them across his shoulder. He lifted me off the bed and carried me across the room. ‘Grab that,’ he said, gesturing his head towards a red faux fur throw draped across a leather chair. I pulled it towards me, wrapped it around myself and held onto him as he stomped through the corridor and down the sweeping staircase to the bottom floor of the house.
‘Danny, what the hell is going on?' Milly asked as she stepped out from the living room. She was wrapped in a silk bathrobe and her hair was no longer piled neatly on top of her head. The red lipstick had gone too.
‘Tell your fucking husband to learn how to conduct himself properly!' Danny shouted as he helped me get into my clothes that he had thrown over his shoulder. He threw his leather jacket over his naked torso and rolled up the throw into a ball before dropping it to the floor.
‘What are you talking about?' Milly asked, utterly bewildered with the scene in front her.
‘He doesn’t get to touch what isn’t…’ he stopped speaking suddenly and dropped his head. ‘Kate’s new to this. He should have left her the fuck alone!’
‘I’ll talk to him, Danny,’ she replied. ‘Kate, I’m so sorry.’
‘He didn’t do anything wrong. It’s fine,’ I reasoned before taking in Danny’s scowl at my words. ‘I don’t know how it works. I’m new to this. I’m sorry.’
‘You’ve nothing to be sorry for. He shouldn’t have touched you. There are fucking rules, Kate!’ Danny shouted as he turned to Milly. ‘Fucking tell her!’
‘You shouldn’t be made to feel uncomfortable, Kate. Especially because it’s your first time,’ she replied. Danny lifted me up into his arms again and carried me to the front door, slamming it shut behind him. He continued swearing under his breath until we reached his motorbike. He placed me gently on the back before roughly shoving the helmet towards me.
Why is he always a contradiction?
He didn’t say another word for the entire journey home.
When we pulled up outside my flat, he stayed on the bike and didn't attempt to get off or move. I unclasped my hands from his around his waist, lifted my leg as gracefully as I could and climbed off the bike. I put the helmet on the seat, stood back and awkwardly folded my arms as I realised I wasn't even going to be graced with eye contact.
‘That’s it? We’re not going to talk like two adults?’ I asked.
‘Nothing to talk about,’ he replied.
‘There’s plenty! I shouted. ‘Aside from that being the most intense night of my life, what the bloody hell happened before we left?’
‘Just leave it, Kate. I’ll see you around.’
‘No! Talk to me. Look me in the eyes and talk,' I cried as he stared at the floor. ‘Why can't you do that? Is it too intimate for you? You can stare into my eyes as you push your cock into me, but you can't look me in the eyes when we talk.' He shook his head in frustration. ‘No, because this is just sex, isn't it? Like you always say. You've been straight with me from the beginning. Looking into each other's eyes would fool us into thinking this is more than sex, wouldn't it? Or maybe it would just fool me.'
He kicked the kickstand and shouted fuck before driving off at such a speed that the helmet I had placed on the back of his bike rolled off noisily across the road. I walked over to pick it up and watched the lights of his motorbike disappear to a pinprick into the distance. I felt for my keys in my pocket and opened the reception door. As I climbed the stairs to my flat, I heard the doors swing open behind me with such force that it made them bang loudly against the wall.
‘Kate!' Danny shouted as I dropped the helmet. He was panting. I could feel the tension bouncing from him. ‘You're fucking amazing, but I don't know what to do with this,' he said as he circled his hand between us. ‘I've never felt this way about anyone.' I stepped towards him, but he held up his other hand. ‘No! Listen!' he said as he dropped his head. ‘I’ve always sought out a high, whether it be through drugs, drink or sex, but nothing has ever made me feel like this before. I’m not chasing anymore. All I need is this. You.’ He dropped his head like he was annoyed that he couldn’t find the right words. ‘You're mine, Kate. Before, I wouldn't give two shits if a guy started touching the women I'd taken there. It was always just a quick fuck, a quick high. But tonight, I couldn't stand them touching you. I couldn't stand them even watching you. I tried, I really tried to let it go, but I couldn’t. You’re mine. Only mine.’
‘I want to be yours!’ I cried. ‘I’ve wanted to be yours for so long!’
‘You’ve been mine from the fucking start!’
He ran towards me and pushed me against the wall, threading his hand through my hair. His kisses were raging, like he was claiming every inch of my body. He growled when his hands found their way under my skirt and he remembered I was bare; because in his panic to get out of the party, he had left my underwear on the floor. His hand gripped me. His kisses bruised my lips before pulling back to watch my mouth, my face. To study me. I took another chance, needing to feel his lips against mine again. We met and we crashed. We danced and we s
wirled. Small flicks, deep caresses, hands resting against faces. Totally spent. Danny had never kissed me on the mouth. I knew he had purposely avoided it, not wanting to raise my hopes that this could be anything more. He had let down his guard and I was left unable to remember any kiss I had experienced before it. They were all insignificant now. Kisses were meant to be like that, intense and leaving you breathless before falling to your knees.
‘You could stay. Tonight, I need you to stay. Will you?’ I asked the familiar question with every part of my body ringing out in the hope that this time his answer would be different, maybe even truthful. He stayed still for a second before dragging his hand down his face, still so unsure, still so vulnerable.
‘I’ll stay,’ he replied, nodding his head. ‘I want to stay.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Elle's stuck in a case conference, but she's going to try to make it back.' Abi kicked the door shut with her leg as she precariously balanced two cups of tea. ‘Here you go, Julie; plenty of milk.'
‘Thank you, sweetheart,' Mum smiled. She appeared calm from the waist up but her bouncing leg under the table told me something different.
The day of my birth records counselling appointment had arrived. I'd waited over three months, and I was nervous despite the time I'd had to get my head around it.
‘Gem’s on her way. Jay let her down, so she's had to wait for his mum to have the kids,' I said. Abi mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like fucknugget as she started taking papers out of a large envelope. ‘Can we wait a couple of minutes?' I asked.
‘Sure. Can I get you anything else while we wait? Biscuit? Maybe a toilet break? Or perhaps an insane piece of gossip about Gem?' Abi pretended to nonchalantly scan the paper in front her.
‘Do I have to answer that?’ I said.
‘Food can wait. I’m just the right side of hungry anyway,’ Mum smiled.
‘Pretend I haven’t told you when she gets here.’ I crossed my chest with my finger. ‘She’s gone back on Love is in the Air.’
‘Is that good or bad?’ Mum asked, completely confused.
‘It’s a dating website. That’s where Elle met Ben,’ Abi replied.
‘Oh, well. If Gem meets someone remotely like Ben, she'll be doing well. He's a hotty.'
‘Mum!’ I laughed.
‘What? I can appreciate a hot guy.’
‘And on that note, I’ll go and chase up Elle. Maybe my hotty will know where she is,’ Abi smiled as she left the room.
It was suddenly quiet. When someone like Abi leaves a room, she takes everything with her at the close of a door. Now I was left without jokes and conversations to take my mind away from nerves and second thoughts. Mum patted her hand on my knee, and the warmth and softness I felt from the person who had raised me as her own and accepted all of me ignited an inferno of guilt.
‘I don’t have to do this. I can tell Abi it’s not what I want and we can leave, go out to dinner, go shopping, do something nice together.’ My words came out in a rush as the enormity of this started bearing down on my shoulders.
‘Kate, look at me.’ And I did. I looked at the woman in front of me. The woman I idolised. The mother I loved. ‘I’m here for you. I understand. Nothing will change between us.’ And, somehow, she knew that was all I needed to hear. Like her hand stroking my head to calm me as an anxious child and the explanation about the dream catcher that she hung at my window, her words stopped the storm inside.
I knew she was with me.
She always had been.
I thought back to all the moments we had shared and the memories we had made over the years. She would proudly tell the story of when I started to make sense of my story, putting the building blocks together in the innocent way that only a child could. I had just turned six, and as we cuddled together watching a film on a rainy Sunday afternoon, I slowly and gradually put my head underneath her jumper and asked if I could climb into her tummy so that she could give birth to me and I could really be hers. She laughed about it now, telling family and friends that I pushed myself out of her cashmere polo neck, but I would always remember the happy tears and lingering hugs after.
‘Look who I found.' Abi stuck her head around the door and Gem followed.
‘Hey, how are you feeling?’ she asked as I welcomed her hug.
Mum wiped her tears. ‘Me or mum?’ I asked as Abi put her arm around me.
‘Both,’ Gem laughed.
‘We’re ready,’ Mum replied, winking at me as we all sat down.
‘Jamie sent me a message. They've just finished the meeting, so Elle's on her way. She should only be another five or ten minutes,' Abi said.
‘So, how does this start?' I asked.
‘I have everything here.’ Abi patted the papers in front of her. ‘I’ve been through your file. There was only one, which isn’t unusual for someone who was adopted at a young age. Some information is classed as third party, which, due to confidentiality, I can’t give you access to.’ I nodded. I was fairly sure this would be the case having been through files myself when putting chronologies together for child protection reports. ‘I’ve gone through everything and documented it all in here.’ She lifted a paper that had Background information report prepared for Kate Roper written in bold type across the front.
‘Is there anything I don’t know?’ I asked hesitantly, realising my early life was contained in the pieces of paper that Abi held in her hand.
‘I don't think there's any information you don't already know through your life-story book or later life letter, but it will go into more detail, and that may be upsetting for you,' Abi replied.
There was a soft knock at the door. Elle entered looking flustered and blushing. ‘I'm sorry. My conference overran. I got here as soon as I could.'
I got up to offer her a hug and settled down again, looking around the table to see my mum and all my friends chatting and offering encouragement.
All of them were here for one purpose: to support me. All of them here for one reason: because they loved me.
‘I’m ready,’ I said as Abi smiled.
‘In accordance with Schedule 2 of the Adoption & Children Act 2002 and Section 15 of the Adoption Agencies Regulations 1983.'
‘It’s all very official,’ Mum said as I tapped my fingers across the paper.
‘It’s just a template we have to follow. Don’t worry about the front,’ Abi replied.
‘You must see so many people, Abi, with so many different stories. Why do they decide to find out more? Is the desire always there even if they’ve had a good experience of adoption?’ Mum asked.
‘There are so many reasons. A guy came in last week having just become a father for the first time. His daughter had a cleft lip and he wanted to know if it was part of the family history.'
‘Oh goodness. Really?’ Mum held my hand tighter.
‘When I first started, I met a woman who had been given less than a year to live. She wanted to know more just to give her some closure,’ Abi said. ‘That was hard. I went to her funeral last week.’
‘Poor girl,’ Mum replied.
‘I guess big life events have an impact. Being told you only have a few months left to live must be top of the list. Starting your own family probably makes adopted people think more. I get the family history thing. I would have liked to have known more about Jay's family trait of being complete and utter arseholes,' Gem replied, causing us all to laugh and lifting the mood in the room. I could have kissed her.
‘Kate, do you want some time with your mum to go through it? Abi asked. We can leave if you’d rather look at it first.’
‘What does everyone else do?’
‘Kate, this is your time. Forget everyone else. How do you want to do it?’
‘We can leave,’ Gem said.
‘Whatever you’re comfortable with,’ Elle agreed.
I read the first few lines.
Name at birth: Kathryn Mitchell
Date of birth: 16th March 1
991
Place of birth: Nottingham
Date placed for adoption: 14th February 1992
‘I want you all to stay. Is that OK, Mum?’
She smiled and nodded, ‘Of course.’ She smoothed my hair behind my ear. ‘Whatever you want, sweetheart.’
‘It’s written in the style of a letter to make it easier for you to read. It starts with some information about your birth mother, Amanda Kirk. She was born in Nottingham on the 15th August 1972 and was nineteen when you were born. She wasn't working at the time, and her last known address is detailed in the report.' Abi had a copy she was reading from as I read through my own, matching the written words on the page as she spoke. ‘Your birth father was called Darren Mitchell, so you were given his surname. He was born in Nottingham on the 21st June 1967, and he was twenty-four at the time of your birth.'
‘So he was five years older than Amanda,’ I said. ‘Was he working?’
‘He didn’t have a formal occupation,’ Abi replied.
I started to laugh. ‘You forget I work in this field. I'm picking through your statement and getting a whole heap ideas of what that actually means.' Abi laughed and nodded towards the report for me to continue reading.
Your birth mother, Amanda Kirk, was living with your maternal grandparents, Eric and Margaret Kirk, in a small terraced house in Sneinton, Nottingham.
Amanda was described as having brown hair and brown eyes with a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She often wore her hair down and enjoyed following the latest fashion trends. She loved music and dancing and was part of an amateur dramatics society in her early teens. Her parents said she had an impressive singing voice and they encouraged her talents through singing lessons.
‘Amanda was described as having a very outgoing and sunny personality,’ Abi read. ‘Margaret called Amanda the light of her life after experiencing difficulties trying to conceive when they first married. Margaret described that time as being one of the most emotionally challenging periods of her marriage to Eric.’
Let Me Be Your Truth Page 16
