A bell sounded, the doors opened, and they stepped out into a dimly lit corridor.
The walls were cream, with the occasional gold stencilled flower that rose up to a white ornate ceiling, where a symmetrical line of gold spotlights subtly illuminated the hallway, and a collection of black and white wall prints of London in the thirties.
At apartment 7, the door’s keyhole was a gold plated key card slot that flashed green in response to Jason’s card swipe. Rachel noticed this, and thought it was cool to have something like that in an apartment building.
Equally cool was when Jason closed the door behind them, and dropped his key card into a wall-mounted cradle and the lights came on.
“Ooh, very flash… Jay, this place is gorgeous,” Rachel breathed, taking in the hallway where the floor was a chequered flag of tiles and the walls were white.
They walked into the lounge, where the furniture was dark mango wood, with black leather sofas faced by a glass coffee table.
Rachel was beaming. “Are we really going to be living here?” she asked, incredulously.
“Where else?” he asked with a smile.
“Wow,” she breathed. “This place must cost a fortune, and I love it!” she said, bounding up to him and jumping into his arms.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said, planting a kiss on his nose.
“You haven't seen this yet,” he said, regaining his balance and then promptly setting her down.
He led her, by the hand, across the room to a large set of balcony doors and pushed them apart.
Instantly, they were assaulted by an icy cold gale spitting freezing rain at them.
Rachel flinched, but if Jason noticed he didn’t show it. He pulled her out onto the balcony, causing her to gasp, but not from the cold but the London view that, although misty, was literally breathtaking. Beneath them, the whole building was surrounded by green lawn, flower beds, trees, garden benches, and a pond. It was secured by high metal railings.
It was their own private island in the middle of the city.
“Do you like it?” Jason asked.
Rachel was breathless, both from the cold and the spectacle before her, “I love it,” she said.
“That’s good, because I would have hated you to come all the way down here and be disappointed.”
She turned to him as the wind tossed her hair about her face and said, “I could never be disappointed as long as I have you.”
“Really? Sure you wouldn’t rather be with Tommy boy?”
Rachel laughed, “Tom was just being friendly.”
“Yes, well Tom likes to get friendly with all the new girls,” he said, folding his arms around her.
“Really? And there’s me thinking that I was special.”
They held each other for a short while as the rain seeped through their clothes.
“I love you,” she said, kissing him full on the lips.
“That was nice.”
“You think so?”
“I know so,” he said gazing straight into her eyes.
“Wait until you see what else I have in mind,” she said, pulling the shirt out of his suit trousers and rubbing cold hands over his belly.
He shrieked as she laughed. But he retaliated by lifting her sweater.
“NO!” she screamed through giggles.
“Ah ah, my turn now!”
“NO! PLEASE!” she squealed, but Jason was having none of it, and proceeded to rub cold hands over her breasts, where he felt her nipples had had a reaction, although he wasn’t sure to what. Nonetheless, he lingered over the pertness, gently teasing them.
She looked him in the eyes.
“You getting cold out here?” he asked, winking at her.
“A bit,” she replied with a big grin and realising that she was trembling.
“I’ve got just the thing,” he said, taking her by the hand once more, and leading her inside.
He pushed the balcony doors shut behind them, leaving the rain to drum at the glass in protestation, and kissed her again. “Your nose is cold,” he said.
She laughed, “I know!”
“Best we get you out of those wet clothes then.”
He pulled off her sodden jumper.
“I agree,” she said, sliding off his jacket and untying his tie, as he unhooked her bra and freed her firm breasts.
The sight of them exciting him.
She shivered, but he wasn’t sure if this was from the cold or the anticipation of what was to come.
“Come with me,” he said.
He led her into the bedroom and through to the en-suite bathroom, of grey marble and chrome accessories. It was a large room with a bath, separate shower cubicle and a luxuriously wide granite basin.
He ran the shower and both of them, now naked, stepped inside where the hot water burrowed deliciously into their skin.
After warming through, they took it in turns to soap each other, paying particularly lingering attention when lathering those sensitive areas.
The steam in the cubicle accumulated rapidly, as did the blood to Jason’s loins where, Rachel’s slow, delicate and deliberate strokes, had worked up a cloud of foam around an impressive erection.
The sight of it turned her on, for it had been weeks since she had enjoyed the touch of her man, and she was yearning for him.
She trailed her lips like the water over his skin, down his chest, to his navel, until she was on her knees, and placed her lips where her hands had been massaging moments earlier. This made him lean back against the tiles, onto the balls of his feet, and turn his face into the cascading warmth.
She responded to this, by teasing his tip with her tongue, enjoying the building anticipation as her hands pawed his belly and his chest.
This continued for several minutes until he could resist no more.
He scooped her up with muscular, strong arms until her face was facing his and then he kissed her on the lips, his passion as hungry as her desire to feel him inside her.
Then, almost as if he had read her thoughts, he spun her around so she was facing away from him and her breasts were pressed onto the cubicle glass.
The movement was so fast, it actually snatched the breath from her lips.
Then, he grabbed her wrists with his right hand and pushed them high above her head. He held them there in a vice-like grip, whilst his left hand slid over her left breast, then down to her flat stomach and then between her legs There, his finger teased for a few seconds before disappearing inside, making her gasp.
Seconds washed by as he tickled and teased, invoking and enjoying her gasps and moans of pleasure, which in turn made his hand move faster and hungrier until, suddenly, he pushed a knee between her legs, pried them apart, and pushed his way deep inside her.
The event was so deep and sudden, it made her cry out in an intoxicating concoction of surprise, pleasure and pain.
He nipped, or more precisely, bit the back of her neck, she reacted by squeaking, which fuelled his excitement, causing him to thrust deeper, fully and faster, each movement accompanied by a grunt of intense satisfaction.
She turned to try and kiss him but found his left hand on her face, smearing her cheek against the glass.
He licked, kissed and bit as he continued to thunder inside her. The act fast, angry, ravenous.
It was both beautiful, exciting and painful for Rachel as she sucked in gasps of air and water.
“Take it! Take it all!” he hissed through clenched teeth as he pounded her.
Both the act and the awkwardness of Rachel’s position was actually hurting. She tried to tell him, but the words came out as a drowned gargle.
“Ja...Ja...son…” she was silenced as he pushed her face harder and harder into the glass, reducing the rest of her protestations to a gagged murmur, as he exploded inside her in a raw and tempestuous climax.
10 Cats
It was a few minutes after 2 pm when Ashley summoned the lift that would take her to the ninth floor, and the le
gal department, where she had a meeting with senior lawyers.
The Harrison Publishing legal team included some of the best brains in the industry. It was their job to ensure that none of Harrison Publishing’s authors, editors or publishers infringed the copyright of, or libelled, any organisation and or citizen in any of its books and or magazines.
They were despised by most, if not all, of the department editors. They had the ultimate power to edit anything before it was printed, and often did so, in order to protect the company’s interests and, of course, it from lawsuits.
Ashley already knew what this meeting was about. Not that she had actually been told. The meeting was scheduled under the guise of a publishing schedule review, but she knew better, and she was ready for them.
A bell sounded and the lift doors slid open; Ashley’s heart sank.
Elisabeth Harrison, dressed in a white designer suit, was already waiting inside. The millionaire flashed Ashley her trademark raptor smile. “Good afternoon, Ashley.”
Ashley drew in a long breath and stepped inside, “Good afternoon, Elisabeth,” she said, promptly finding abnormal interest in the level indicator.
The doors closed and the lift ascended, beeping on its way, as Elisabeth checked her hair and makeup in the wall mirror. “So, come across any potential best sellers today?” she asked, seemingly distracted.
“Some. Otherwise, it was the usual dross. You know, people deluding themselves that they have talent.”
“I agree. Unfortunately, some of those people, like stray dogs, end up working here.”
“You’d be right. Just as well there are others who work really hard to keep profits up and your dividends high.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise they all worked gratis.”
“They work.”
“Yes,” Elisabeth began, admiring her cropped black hair. She had recently had it fashioned into a severe fringe and shoulder-length cut that, along with her green eyes and thick eye makeup, made her the embodiment of Cleopatra.
At least she thought so.
“Some are destined to lead, while others are intended to serve,” she said, like a scene straight out of Dynasty, turning from the mirror and locking eyes with Ashley, whilst wearing her best supercilious grin.
It was right then, at that very moment, that Ashley could have slapped her face. Just lifted her hand as high as it would go, bring it down and across with such force, that would knock the bitch silly.
Instead, she returned the smile, “You’re right. The board of Harrison, of which you are a member, pays me, my staff, one of which happens to be your boyfriend, our exorbitant salaries, because they need the best people to sift through and edit the crap from the marketable, and that is what we will do. Hence why any trashy novels by bed hopping has-beens, with pretentious names, will be consistently rejected, regardless of how many times they land on my desk.”
Dramatically, a bell sounded and the elevator doors opened.
Ashley moved to exit, but Elisabeth blocked the door with her arm, “You know, when push comes to shove, you’re just another employee,” she said with narrowed eyes.
Ashley looked at Elisabeth’s arm as if it were a thing from outer space, and not part of her body, and it was this contempt that made Elisabeth’s blood boil.
Regardless, slowly, she removed the blockade.
Ashley stepped out of the lift, leaving Elisabeth to contemplate how exactly she was going to get that hick bitch out of her cousin’s life, once and for all.
And, as the doors closed, she smiled an evil smile.
11 After
An hour had passed since their encounter in the shower.
Rachel, dressed in one of Jason’s shirts, lay on the bed, and for the first time since arriving, noticed that the bedroom was so big it could probably fit the flat she’d just surrendered, twice.
The décor followed the same masculine, minimalistic theme as the rest of Jason’s apartment; white-washed walls, a large built in wardrobe with mirrored doors, solid dark wood bedside cabinets, and chrome fixtures and fittings. Even the king size bed was made of matching dark wood, speckled with silver studs.
Across the room, a large picture window framed an angry grey sky.
Rachel smiled. She couldn’t help it. This was her new home. This luxurious pad in the city of London was where she now lived with her boyfriend.
Her boyfriend.
That sounded so good.
Finally, after years of aimless searching, she had found her place in the world, and walking out on her parent’s family home ten or so years ago, suddenly didn’t feel like the worst mistake of her life.
And it was all thanks to him.
She watched Jason return from the hallway. He was naked but for a pair of black boxers, and carrying two mugs of tea.
He placed Rachel’s on the bedside cabinet, kissed her long and lingeringly on the mouth, then looked into her eyes.
“That was nice,” he said with a grin.
By the look on his face, Rachel knew he was referring to what happened in the shower and not the kiss.
She didn’t reply.
A few seconds went by.
“Are you okay?” he asked, taking a seat on the other side the bed and then leaning against the headboard, cradling his mug in his hands.
“I’m okay. Just surprised,” she said without turning to him.
“Surprised?”
“By how you were in there. You’ve never been like that before.”
“You didn’t like it?”
Rachel could still feel a stinging sensation between her thighs, and had noticed red marks on her wrists. “Not particularly,” she said.
“I thought you enjoyed making love.”
“I do, but you weren’t making love.”
“What was I doing then?”
“You weren’t making love.”
He frowned, “You seemed to enjoy it at the time,” he said, slurping his tea.
“Not that rough, Jay,” she forced a smile. “I have marks on my wrists too”, she said, thrusting her hands at him. And sure enough, both wrists were visibly red and would most likely bruise.
He shrugged, then kissed her wrists. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I got carried away.” And then added with a grin, “It’s been a long time. I promise I’ll be gentler next time,” he winked.
He pecked her on the cheek. “Now, drink up before your tea gets cold.”
Rachel felt the bed lift as he got up and padded over to the walk in wardrobe. She watched him pull out a white shirt and slip into it.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed.”
“What for?”
“I need to get back to work.”
“What?” Rachel sat up. “What do you mean you have to get back to work?”
He turned to her, while buttoning his shirt, as if she had asked a silly question.
“What about me?”
“I’m sure you’ll manage to amuse yourself for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Jay, I don’t want to be here on my own.”
“Well, I’m sorry, babe, I really can’t get out of it.”
“But you’re your own boss now; you should be able to do whatever you like. Besides, I thought you just worked from home.”
He laughed, “In theory. But I still have clients to meet. You’ll be okay. Take a look around. Go explore. Notting Hill is just minutes away. I’d have thought you’d love a mooch around there.”
“Yeah, I would, but not on my own. I wouldn’t even know how to get there.”
“You’ll be okay. Just ask at the desk downstairs, they’ll point you in the right direction. You’ll have fun.”
“Well, I’ll be the judge of that,” she snapped, irritated by his apathy.
The least he could have done was taken the day off, and she was about to tell him so, but then thought about it; did she really want to start their first day together with an argument?
So she took few sec
onds to consider; she’d made the best of much worse situations before.
But this wasn’t just about being abandoned to her own devices for the afternoon. This was more about her surrendering her independence to be here. She’d given up her everything. Her own place, her job, and what few friends she had, to be with him, and it was terrifying. Especially, to someone who learned the importance of being independent the moment she took on her own paper round.
Yet here she was.
For love.
And it freaked her out.
It’s not like she could call her parents; she had spurned them as soon as she was old enough to do so, and had learned to cope on her own ever since. The experience had been as heartbreaking as it was character building.
There weren’t many days that she didn’t regret severing her family ties, but her relationship with her mother was nothing but a diet of arguments about school, work and chores.
Nothing was ever good enough for Mrs Harper. No matter how hard Rachel tried, it seemed she could never meet her mother’s exacting standards and thus complete anything to her satisfaction.
And this is something that affected Rachel. At least it did until she reached her teens and began to develop a personality of her own. It was then that the rebellion began, arguments turned into full on screaming matches, and things only got worse.
Barely a day went by when Mr Harper wasn’t forced to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea; the wrath of his wife or the happiness of his daughter.
The wife won almost every time.
This left Rachel feeling victimised, alone, and angry, very angry, for she took every decision her father made as a personal betrayal, and each of her mother’s victories as yet another reason for later retribution.
Things came to a head one day when all of Rachel’s frustrations boiled over and, in the heat of an argument, she actually punched her mother. The impact propelled Mrs Harper backward, sending her sprawling onto the kitchen floor, under a shower of water and dog food.
Rachel knew there’d be no coming back from that, so she packed her bags and left her childhood home.
She was barely out of school.
Unspeakable Page 7
