Drop Dead Dirty

by West, Jade

  “Hi,” she said, and her eyes feasted on mine.

  “Hi,” I said right back, and felt my smirk creeping up full.

  Her stare moved up and down, soaking me in. “We are, um… very well dressed for a Saturday afternoon…”

  “You look beautiful,” I said, just like that. “Absolutely beautiful. Very well dressed for any time of day or night.”

  She shrugged a little, cheeks blooming just a touch through her makeup. “I, um… thanks…” she said, and I had to halt the urge to walk her right back inside and land my hungry hands all over her.

  No. Not yet.

  I held out a hand and gripped hers politely to guide her out. She grinned as she spun back around to lock up her front door, and the scent of her floral perfume was gorgeous enough to tease my senses.

  “Where do we begin?” she asked with another shrug. “This is new turf to me. I’m not normally dating on a weekend. Or ever.”

  “Me, neither,” I admitted, and held open the front gate for her. “This is an incredibly special occasion. I promise we’ll be doing whatever it takes to make it a good one.”

  She looked across to a pair of neighbours heading along the path to our right. Both of them grinned bright and gave Maisie a nod as they passed. They were a colourful looking pair, the girl with bright hair and glitter makeup and the guy pacing along with some mega ego swagger.

  Much Arlock really had changed this past decade. I felt so much older.

  “That’s Kai and Cherry. They live next door and next door but one, with their mums. They aren’t used to seeing me quite like this,” she told me when they were out of earshot.

  Her explanation was the kind of small-town social knowledge I’d been left out of over the years. Who was who. Where they lived. Where they worked. What they’d been doing.

  We were well and truly a decade along different life paths. There was so much time to catch up on and so much to reconnect in our universes.

  Just as well I was all set to get started.

  I reached for Maisie’s hand and held it tight in mine as we set off along the recreation ground path, not giving a shit for any twitching curtains.

  “I want to take you out to dinner this evening,” I told her. “Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do. I’m all yours.”

  I loved how she smiled up at me. “All mine? Really?”

  I nodded. “All yours.”

  Her giggle was so sweet and gentle. “I still can’t believe this is happening. I’m still in shock. Seriously.”

  “Believe it, Maisie,” I said, squeezing her hand in mine.

  I made sure my eyes were fixed on her every step we took, loving how utterly irresistible her humility and nervousness was proving to be at my side.

  Maisie was anything but an inflated ego, so different to a world of city types I’d come to know over the years. She was just as I remembered. Genuine. Lovable. Kind and curious. Buzzing with life. Everything I’d ever wanted, even when I was running away from the pain of losing her.

  “What’s it like to be back hanging out in Much Arlock?” she asked.

  “Interesting,” I told her, with a smirk. “Familiar.”

  “Familiar in a good or a bad way?” she quizzed, and I pondered the question.

  “Both.”

  “Makes sense,” she said. “We do have our good and bad here.” She pointed to the row of oaks. “Fancy a walk along our old route?”

  I pictured her in her school uniform, dashing along by the trees on our way to the climbing frame. My gaze landed on the same one standing there, in fresh red paint.

  “I’d love a walk with you along any route,” I told her, and we headed down onto the grass.

  “Damn shoe choice,” she said partway across, and tugged her heels off her feet. I took them from her, holding them tight in my hand as she padded her way down towards the play area.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the bounce of her footsteps on bare feet. Not for a second.

  The play area was bustling with kids and mums, the place alive as we paced on by, but I wasn’t interested in any of it, not for a moment.

  My interest was all in her.

  My Maisie.

  The girl who’d always snared me whole.

  The breeze swept her hair as we arrived down at the row of oaks, and the sun caught her eyes enough to make the green in them sparkle. She sat herself down on one of the old benches and I sat down alongside her. I placed her shoes down, then took hold of her feet and spun her gently towards me, laying her legs over mine to stop her feet getting cold against concrete.

  And that’s where we stayed.

  Our smiles were heavy with utter joy at being right next to each other, oblivious to all the passing people as we sat in our evening clothes, laughing through old jokes and talking through old memories.

  Slowly she inched closer and took my hand in hers, ending up so tightly against me that her head was against my shoulder. Minute by minute my whole body ramped up with need, aching for more, even though I was loving the moments so much I didn’t want to move a muscle.

  “I bet this wasn’t quite what you had in mind for our weekend date,” she said as the afternoon drew on and the playground began to clear.

  “All I had in mind was you,” I told her, and fixed her in my stare. “Although I do have plenty of plans for later.”

  My eyes spoke volumes, I’m certain. My tone was bristling with filthy want, just as she’d come to recognise plenty on video calls, I had no doubt.

  The clock was ticking, skin prickling for contact. My fantasies were dancing, heavy between us. Promising their revelation in the flesh.

  Soon.

  Hell, how I wanted her.

  Her cheeks pinked up. “I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

  “Oh, you will,” I laughed, and couldn’t stop my smile. “Believe me, you will.”

  Her fingers twisted in mine. “It’s been quite a long time since I was with anyone… in that way… Rob and I split up a while ago…”

  The shake in her voice was intoxicating. Utterly intoxicating.

  “You don’t need to be nervous,” I told her. “Not for a second.”

  “I already am nervous as all crap,” she said, and her eyes were stunning. Addictive.

  They were more than I could resist.

  I expected our first kiss to be in the beauty of the Three Feathers bedroom, heated under lamplight. I expected it to be in privacy at the end of a long day of tension, our mouths pressing tight as our need for each other burst free and ran wild.

  I didn’t expect me to tip her face up to mine on a summers’ day afternoon, on an old bench while kids ran riot on the park right next to us. I didn’t expect me to gently press my lips to hers and savour the moment like a teenager all over again, my eyes closed tight as my heart pounded hard.

  She let out a sigh as I brushed her cheek with my fingers and snaked them around her neck to hold her close.

  Perfect.

  It was perfect.

  Just like old times.

  We only broke the contact when a couple of the playground boys came charging close by in a game of tag.

  She couldn’t hold back the giggle as she rested her head against my shoulder, breathing hard.

  “That felt like a seriously long time coming,” she said. “I still can’t believe these dreams are coming true.”

  I pressed my lips to the softness of her hair and breathed in the coconut scent.

  “You’d better believe it,” I told her. “Just wait until the night gets started.”

  She swung her feet back to the ground.

  “We’d better get going then, hadn’t we?”

  My hand was tight in hers all over again as I stood up to join her.

  “We’d better had,” I agreed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Maisie

  I’m not sure how I managed to keep my grin anything like under control on our way into town. The muscles in my face were ac
hing as we walked hand in hand from the recreation ground, and I was lost to everything but how good it felt to have that man – that incredibly incredible, gorgeous specimen of a man – really, truly at my side. In the flesh. Actually in the flesh.

  I said many hellos to the passing population, and many of them grinned right back, some even nudging those next to them in acknowledgement of whatever was clearly going down between us.

  There was no doubt in my mind that we’d be at the top of the town gossip list by now, but I couldn’t help that. Nothing could ever help that in this place. I only hoped it would steady itself on the rumour front before it bashed its way into Robbie and caused a commotion.

  I didn’t have time to worry about that for now, though.

  This time was purely about me and Oliver, and about making the most of it. About our second chance at one very, very wanted dream and making the most out of that too.

  Damn, I’d do my best. I really would.

  “Dinner at the Three Feathers?” he asked as it came into view at the top of the high street.

  “Totally your call. I’ve only ever had coffee there. It’s been too posh for any dinner date I’ve ever been on, so I’ll trust your judgement,” I said, and crap, how my voice sounded like a ramble rather than a simple yes, please.

  “Only the very best for the very best,” he replied, and tugged me close enough to wrap his arm around my waist.

  The Feathers was simmering with weekend tourists enjoying meals in the main restaurant. We were seated in a very stately position in the main window, and I hope I looked okay in my little black dress. The menu looked utterly delicious, and so did Oliver’s fine features across the table top.

  It was a weird combination of emotions, having him there next to me. Recognition, but faded. Familiar, yet not.

  I was so comfortable around him, and so nervous, both mashed up at once. It was a crazy, heady mixture.

  I was still staring at him over the top of the menu when the waiter came to take our order, uselessly oblivious enough that it made Ollie laugh as I stumbled back to my senses and scanned back through the food listings.

  “Lasagne, please,” I managed.

  “I’ll take the Tuscan stuffed pepper, thank you,” Oliver followed.

  The waiter had a twinkle of amusement in his own smile as he took our order for a bottle of red wine. He retreated with a very polite thank you and our menus tucked neatly under his arm.

  “I hope this place lives up to its promise,” Oliver whispered. “I always imagined it to be such a fine food restaurant.”

  “This whole day is living up to its every promise,” I whispered back, cheeks flushing their trademark flush as the waiter returned and poured our wine.

  “Cheers to us,” Ollie said and raised his glass.

  “Cheers to us,” I agreed, and tapped mine to it.

  The candlelight on the table between us was redundant in the evening sun, but still absolutely perfect for the ambience.

  The wine went down with a delicious warmth, and took some of my niceties with it. I barely recognised the wildness of my own pang of need to get under that suit of his, so pristine across the table.

  Was the dirty little minx in me really still there buried deep? Was I really so ready to rise up and explore the fantasies?

  I guessed I’d find out soon enough, and so would he.

  Conversation flowed well, but it was different than the park bench. There was a heaviness. A thrum of need pulsing.

  I asked him about his London life and London business but he waved it aside as technicalities. He was all for me, wanting to talk about Freddie, and my interests in this small-town universe, and how ready I was to see more of him. On an ongoing basis.

  I was very much ready to see more of him. On an ongoing basis.

  His eyes were focused on mine right through our main course, and by dessert there was that edge to them. That hunger for filth that made my belly quiver. Because I recognised it. I really recognised it. Not just from late-night video calls, but from so much earlier. Before I even really knew what I was looking at.

  My ice cream danced around my spoon, barely wanting to make its way to my mouth. My heart was racing its usual pulse around Oliver Kent, but there was an added depth to it this time. A thrill running too damn deep to keep still as the dishes were cleared.

  He handed them his room card for the bill and asked if I wanted another wine, but I didn’t. I didn’t want anything but to feel his flesh against mine. I shook my head with a tremble, my breath hitching in slight little starts as we got to our feet and made our way through to the main lounge area. Ollie was gesturing at one of the tables in the bar, but his jaw was tight and his eyes were as hungry as mine as I dared to reach a hand out for his and tug his fingers just a notch.

  Upstairs.

  Every cell in me was screaming for upstairs.

  I didn’t need to put it into words. He nodded. A single little nod that spoke of a thousand promises.

  I glanced around the room as he stepped back towards the main staircase. For once there was very little attention on me, most of the faces unfamiliar.

  My breathing was slow and steady as I followed Oliver and made my way up the stairs after him. His room key was already in his hand as he held open the hallway door for me to step through. Arlock Suite was on a beautiful directions plaque, the arrow pointing further along the corridor, and I followed, mute and heady, my heart in my throat as Oliver stepped on up to the door and slipped the key in the lock.

  His smirk was dark and glittering as he held the door and I stepped inside, and it was every bit as wonderful as you’d imagine for such a classy hotel. The four poster was huge and magnificent, with plush cream bedding. The leaded windows were stunning as they looked out onto the high street down below.

  He flicked on the lamp switch, and the glow was amazing. I spun to face him, and he stepped on up, his eyes fierce on mine as he placed his hands on my shoulders and slid them down my arms.

  “I’ve been waiting a long, long time for this,” he said, and his voice was burning.

  I nodded right back. “I just really do hope it’ll be worth the wait,” I said, but with that his lips were pressed to mine.

  Hard.

  His lips were pressed to mine really damn hard.

  His tongue was commanding, but skilled. It consumed me, hunted mine, tasted mine… wanted mine.

  I kissed him right back as my hands dashed up to his shoulders, fingers tracing the finesse of his suit jacket, and I was lost. Lost to everything. Lost to his touch, and his taste, and the commanding strength of him as he walked me back towards the four poster.

  My breath was ragged when he broke the kiss for long enough to eat me up with the filth in his stare.

  “Prepare to be mine, Maisie Moore,” he said.

  But I didn’t need to.

  I was well and truly his already.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Oliver

  My mouth was fierce on hers, but hers was wanting right back. Her tongue was a nervous treasure, reaching out and teasing mine. Her fingers were dainty but needy, reaching inside my jacket and slipping along my shirt.

  I walked her backwards, my fingers twisting in her hair as we moved. The entire well of need in me was set to erupt like a fucking furnace, so many years of dreams and fucking wants spilling free, but the whimper of need in her came crashing right back at me, both of us desperate.

  I tugged her jacket from her shoulders and dropped my mouth to her bare skin. She tipped her head to the side and urged me for more in the most delicious little whispers. I couldn’t hold back my smirk as I nipped, and I was back there in memory, as the teenager claiming the girl who drove him crazy.

  The zip on her dress was easy to find, I made light work of slipping the clasp free and pulling the fabric down to her waist. And there she was. Exposed enough that I could see the perfectly horny choice of lingerie she’d picked out for the occasion. Purple and black lace. She looked
fucking divine.

  “Very nice,” I said, and flicked my tongue across her open lips. “You look fucking beautiful.”

  The look in her eyes told me she didn’t quite believe me, and there was more. Her hands were dithery with self-consciousness, high up against her cleavage.

  “Don’t hide yourself,” I told her. “You’ve absolutely no need to hide anything from me. I want it all, Maisie.”

  She nodded, just a little, but that wasn’t enough. My answer was obvious, my hands strong as I reached for hers and gripped them tight in mine. My eyes were hungry for the swell of her tits as I dropped her arms to her sides and smiled my pleasure.

  “Relax,” I said. “I’ve got you.”

  Another nod came from her, her breaths still shallow.

  “I want this so much,” she whispered. “I want you so much, Ollie.”

  Her words were like sugar. Everything about her was sweet as sugar

  I ran my palms across the lacy fabric of her sweet little bodice, loving the softness of those perfect fucking tits.

  “I’m going to savour every single moment of this,” I told her, and tugged at the ribbon front.

  The bra burst free with enough force that her flesh rippled, and those nipples were even better than they’d promised to be on video call. They were ripe and dark and so much more mature for the passing decade. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the rise and fall of her. My mouth was watering as I slipped her black dress down past her hips and let it fall to the floor, craving more. I let out a rasp of my own as she stepped out of the pool of fabric.

  “Gorgeous choice of lingerie,” I said. “But I want you out of it. I want you naked. Raw and naked and spread wide.”

  Her smile was a flicker of dirty under the innocence. “I remember you like this,” she told me, and I nodded.

  “I’m so much more like this than you’ll ever remember,” I said. “The years have made me quite a beast.”