Moved

by Katrina Liss

  The long slow seduction date tomorrow seems a long way off and I don't want to wait. The pint of wine has fuelled my desire to a critical point and I’ve now tipped over the edge…

  He's up on his feet in a second, taking my hand, pulling me off the stairs. The he opens the front door, just a few feet away, and steps outside. He squeezes my waist, pulling me close and kisses me on the doorstep.

  “Mine?” he asks.

  “Well, yeah, it's gotta be.” I laugh, and kiss him back.

  We turn and start to leave, our faces still stuck together in a smoochy kiss.

  But we don't get far, because blocking our path of exit, leaning against the open gate, is Mason. The gatekeeper is crashing us, and, I sense, about to ruin our private party.

  He's taken the scene in, and knows what we've been doing, and what we are going to do now.

  No doubt whatsoever about it.

  No one says anything. We just stare at each other.

  He puffs at his cigarette like a maniac and then throws it on the floor in disgust.

  “Couldn't keep your hands off her, could you bro?” he spits at Jackson with venom, moving forward.

  “Any particular reason why I should?” Jackson snaps back. “You've never actually laid it out for me. Just because she dances with you doesn't mean you own her.”

  “I can give you a couple of good reasons. Kay's special and she's off the Jackson must-fuck menu.”

  “Why is that exactly? Because she's on yours? Think you might fancy a brunette snack for a change?” he replies nastily.

  They square up to each other. Tempers and nostrils flaring.

  Mason's dead if this kicks off physically.

  My head goes hot and then cold and then swims.

  Oh no...no... This can't be happening...

  I try to keep the peace... pushing my way between them.

  “Look Mase. I'm capable of making my own decisions about who I see,” I say in my best trying-to-keep-things-calm voice. He backs off and bites his lip and his eyes find mine. It's an intense look.

  “No, you're not,” he begins. “Your track record isn't that great, is it? Not based on what you've told me. And this decision will be yet another bad one to add to the list. Kaydee please... believe me, you don't need someone like him,” he gestures, nodding over my shoulder to Jackson, hovering close behind me.

  My stomach is churning with something I'm not sure of. The way he's saying this and the look in his eyes. I'm overwhelmed. Because if I'm not mistaken, he cares very much about me, more than he's letting on. Which makes the whole thing even worse.

  Then they both glare at each other again, shutting little me, the piggy in the middle, out. The bad vibes are building by the second.

  “Who the hell are you to judge me?” Jackson says, his rising voice dripping with derision. “That's fucking rich coming from you. My intentions are none of your business, anyway, got that?”

  “I know you haven't got it in you to be faithful to her. You know you don't. I remember Jane, your 'latest and greatest love'... to quote you, verbatim... and Emma and Rae after that.” Mason pokes Jackson in the chest, much too hard. “You cheated on them all, didn't you? You're not good for her. She's just blinded by your good looks, that's all. Like they all are. Leave her alone Jackson. She really doesn't need you screwing up her life.”

  My heart is beating like a drum and a rising panic and confusion takes me over. I turn and run away, tears about to spill down my cheeks. I'm naturally over sensitive. Far too sensitive for my own good. Jackson catches me up and grabs my wrist.

  “Kaydee… stop. Let me explain.”

  I shrug him off, angry and full of disappointment. I don't know why, because it's not like we're a couple or anything, I mean, we're hardly even together yet. He doesn’t need to explain himself. No promises have been made between us. He doesn't know what I'm looking for or what I want and need from him.

  He's done nothing wrong at all. Yet.

  But somehow, I get the feeling he will.

  Despite my rejection, he persists and pulls me in hugging me, and I dismiss all my concerns momentarily, as I sink into his comforting male bulk, with a shaky snivel and a sniff. Over his shoulder I see Mason watching us, from the gate, looking so brooding and angry like he's about to explode. He finally stalks off in the opposite direction, kicking the low brick wall and shouting, “Fuck you to hell, what do I care,” very loudly, so I can hear every word.

  For the first time I wonder what he's doing here. How did he know? And what about Summer? I see Nat's cruel eyes in my mind. I bet he told him. In fact, I'm sure of it.

  “Want me to walk you home?” Jackson asks in a soothing tone of voice, bringing me out of my thoughts.

  I look up at him. “Yes, please,” I snivel, wiping my runny eyes and nose on my bare arm. I imagine I look a state. I've probably got mascara streaks everywhere. Thank God it's dark.

  We start to walk.

  “So what did happen with Jane, Emma & Co,” I ask. I might as well get all the bad stuff out of the way in one fell swoop. Then at least I won't have to wonder.

  “Don’t pay attention to what he said. They were nothing special.”

  “Oh, not your latest and greatest loves after all?”

  “I guess not. It started out okay and I guess I was verbally over enthusiastic.”

  “Until…?”

  “Until I got to know them a bit better. In a nutshell, Jane was too young, as in highly immature. Emma was stuck in her ways and uncompromising about everything. And as for Rae, well, she was obsessed with her appearance. She gave vanity a whole new meaning.”

  That was a little too smooth and slick. Is he just giving me well rehearsed lines?

  “Mason said you cheated on them.”

  He casts me a guilty look.

  “I admit I did cheat on Emma, with a girl I met in a bar. But I swear I didn’t cheat on the other two. I’m not a cheat by nature.”

  “Is that the absolute truth?”

  “Yeah, look Kaydee… I understand what you’re thinking. You’re wary of me now and you think I’m gonna be a two timing rat. But the big difference with you and the others is that I know you already. I’ve known you quite a long time. And I know what we’re getting into here. We have good chemistry, we get along great, don’t we?”

  “Yeah…” He does have a point there, but I’m not entirely convinced he’s not a two-timing bastard and a commitment phobe.

  “So let’s chill. See how things go?”

  Is this guy honestly worth all the hassle I’m going to have with Mason.

  I’m really not sure now.

  “Okay…we’ll see how things go,” I repeat.

  We arrive outside my place and he hugs and kisses me goodnight, with a sweet little peck on the lips.

  “I'll call you tomorrow morning about our date, okay?”

  “Yeah, looking forward to it.” I smile broadly at him.

  He lets me go and walks off down the road with a spring in his step.

  As I watch him go I’m so relieved we didn't go the whole way the first night we got to be alone together. It means I can take a breather, stand back from the situation and think a bit straighter.

  But lust has a lot to answer for. That, and pints of wine.

  I go inside, dragging myself up the stairs wearily. I kick my shoes into the cloak cupboard and stand in the kitchen having a few glasses of water. It's nearly 2 am. I'm dead tired after the usual dancing rehearsal, my piercing trauma, and all the recent events of the evening on top. I brace my hands against the kitchen counter-top trying to stop my mind racing.

  What the hell am I going to say to Mason?

  I'm worried it will affect our dancing together. But now's really not the time to worry about things. I need to switch off and rest. Tomorrow I'll talk to him. Talk like friends should. I stand up, puffing out a sigh, and make for my room. I don't expect I'll be able to sleep a wink, but I gotta try.

  I go into my room, d
rop my purse, and strip off my clothes. I chuck them somewhere in the dark, and then turn the dressing table vanity light on to find the make-up wipes and clear away the residual make up. I’m not in the mood, but I really need to do some piercing care too.

  But I don’t get much further than thinking about hygiene.

  Because I spot it immediately in the mirror. I couldn't fail to. I squeak and draw in a huge breath.

  A massive eight legged monster is sitting on my duvet.

  It's one of 'those' types of spiders. Damn ugly and damn big. My worst spider nightmare. My heart pounds with adrenalin and a cold sweat breaks out on my brow. I edge around the room, staring at it in transfixed horror. Finally I'm out of my room and shutting the door in relief. I grab all the cushions from the sofa and stuff them along the bottom of the door, covering the gap, so it can't escape. My panic is starting to die down, now that it's imprisoned in my room.

  I know it's illogical, my fear of them. I can't control my reaction. I think I probably need professional help, some kind of spider therapy.

  I go in the bathroom and wrap myself in his ‘eat me’ towel as mine are wet in the washing machine. I'd kinda rushed out earlier. It's not a very big towel, but it'll have to do. I turn off the lights and go into Mason's bedroom to wait for him to return and remove the spider for me. If he feels inclined to do that, after our fight.

  He actually likes the little critters. They're kinda cute, he says.

  Heaven help me... How are they cute?

  Maybe he won't even be home tonight, who knows?

  I'm now concerned about this possibility, considering his mood when I last saw him. And I can't even call him, or anyone, because my phone is in my room and I'm so not going in there. I slide inside his duvet and lay there, waiting... waiting.... I drift off in a semi propped up position.

  I don't know what time it is, but I'm disturbed by a rush of cold air and a heavy thump at my side. Followed by a long groan.

  He's back, and alive. Thank God.

  A little dramatic of me, I know. But I'm really relieved.

  The smell of alcohol and nicotine hits me hard.

  I poke his naked back.

  “What the fuck?” He springs up and his eyes find mine in the semi darkness. “Shit Kaydee, you scared me to death, and what the hell are you doing in my bed?”

  “There's a great big spider in my room,” I explain in a childlike voice. I know I'm sounding totally pathetic.

  “It's probably gone now. Go back to bed,” he says, yawning and flopping back down again.

  “Where's it gone, though? It was on my bed. It might be in it for all I know, waiting to crawl up my leg.”

  “Well I'm not looking for it now. I’m pissed and it's the middle of the night for crissakes! Stay here. I’ll get rid of it tomorrow.”

  “If you don't mind me staying here, I’d rather,” I reply gratefully.

  “I really, really don't give a fuck. About anything. Now go to sleep. I'm trashed,” he says.

  “Mason, where've you been tonight?” I appeal.

  “I needed a drink or ten.”

  I take a deep breath and make my apology. Trashed or not, I want to tell him before he goes to sleep.

  “I'm sorry. I've abused your trust, haven't I?”

  “Don't wanna talk ‘bout it.”

  “Please... just for a minute.”

  “Okay, shoot,” he says, leaning up on his elbow.

  “Nothing happened, right?”

  “Really?”

  Keeping my towel wrapped tight I edge closer and put my arm around Mason and hug him to me. As I look at his familiar face, deeply shadowed in the dark, his eyes glimmering, and his glossy hair, my heart lurches all over the place.

  “I don't want to lose you as a friend. Because I do love you,” I offer.

  As soon as those words are out of my mouth, something changes between us in a heartbeat. I can feel it.

  He puts his hands around my face.

  “I love you too… always have…”

  The way he says it, stuns me into silence.

  He loves me? What kind of love?

  In that way?

  I so want it be true that I accept it without any further question.

  His face draws closer and I shut my eyes. I'm slipping into a sublime dream. I still can't believe this is happening.

  Not to Mason and me.

  I forget Jackson in a nanosecond. He means nothing compared to Mason. This man is my whole life. I also conveniently forget the Barbies and his uncommitted life plan. If he has feelings for me and there's a chance here with him, I'm gonna take it.

  His lips brush mine and the sun comes out. It's shining brighter than any sun ever has.

  “Mason,” I murmur. I'm lost in the bright light in my head.

  “You’re mine, beautiful,” he murmurs back.

  I'm not hearing this.

  Beautiful? And his?

  I am now completely sure of his feelings. He does love me. He really does.

  I shoot into the realms of fantasy as his tongue pushes gently inside my mouth. I hardly notice the nicotine and alcohol on his breath as I respond with a pent up, passionate enthusiasm. I'm exploding with feelings. Our hands are everywhere as I drag him on top of my towel clad body. I grasp his naked backside and run my hands up and down his back, scraping my nails over his skin in frenzy.

  I desperately want him. This feeling has been festering inside me for so long.

  “I want you Mason... please...” I almost sob as I come up for air, gasping.

  “Mmmm, the way I feel about you,” he groans.

  “I don't understand,” I blurt out in wide eyed wonder.

  “What's to understand?” he asks. Then he leans across and switches on the light. We blink, adjusting to the brightness for a few seconds, as we stare at each other.

  “I wanna see… everything.” He pulls back the duvet and undoes his little black towel, slowly, like he's unwrapping a special present. I hold my breath as he looks at me. My heart's pounding ten to the dozen. He sighs shakily and licks his lips as his gaze travels up and down. “Tell me I’m not dreaming…”

  “No… no you’re not.” After that words fail me as his mouth fastens on my nipple and he sucks greedily, like he's starving hungry for me. Then he bites, nibbles, and tugs with his teeth. It's so painfully arousing and I moan, over and over, with every sweet pull of his mouth. I want a lot more.

  “Mmmm,” I purr like a cat and arch up to him, offering him everything as he sucks and bites. Back and forth, one breast to the other. I watch his head move across me and I'm in awe of the blissful scene that's unfolding. Arousing feelings shoot down my stomach and everywhere inside me. I ache for him inside. In a way I never have before. All our professional intimate meets could never have prepared me for this.

  He leans back on his elbow and strokes my shoulder tattoo with his fingers. He's caressing the part of me I thought he didn't like. It makes my heart fly.

  Now I'm on fire.

  He watches my face as his fingers stroke downwards, lower and lower, over my breasts and across my stomach. Until he reached that point between my legs. This is what I really want. I want him there. I open my legs, inviting him in. I hold my breath as he strokes his way across the wetness. I squirm against his touch.

  “Yes... go on… do it...” I demand.

  His fingers plunge inside me, once, twice, and yet again. He leaves them there, wedged hard inside as his thumb sweeps back and forth over my pleasure spot. All breath leaves my body in a long gasp.

  Now I'm gone.

  “You feel so good, way better than good, like I never imagined,” he says croakily... his deep voice catching, sending me all over the place.

  I drag myself back to earth and take hold of his hardness. It's almost pulsating in my hands, harder than hard. I slide my hands around him, exploring the one special part of him I've never touched.

  “Oh my God...” is all I can think to say. There really are
n't words to describe what's going on in my head.

  I tug at him, pulling him over and on top of me. I wrap my legs around him and I feel it... the delicious pressure against me; head poised and ready to push inside.

  A fast hard thrust and he's inside me. All the way in, right up to his warm balls. I wriggle upwards, getting him in those last few and so important millimetres. He's the perfect size, the perfect fit.

  He moves slow and deep. In and out..

  Could anything feel better than this?

  Nothing. Ever.

  I rub his backside and relish the experience with every fibre of my being.

  “Whoa…the world’s spinning,” he mutters, in a slurred voice, and suddenly he collapses heavily on me with a gutteral groan.

  I shake him but he doesn't respond.

  “Mason?”

  I simply cannot believe it.

  He's passed out on me?

  I gently ease him off me, roll him over, onto his side of the bed.

  I don't know how to feel about what just happened I can't share things with him and I really, really need to.

  I’m beyond shocked and upset and cry myself to sleep.

  6

  I wake up with a start. It's early but I'm wide awake. I look over at his side. The bed's empty. I reach across and feel the sheet with my hand. It's cold. I get up and put on one of his baggy t-shirts which covers my bare backside decently enough. I venture out, into the living room, but he's not there. My bedroom door is closed. The cushions are gone though. I'm not going in there yet. Just in case. I try the bathroom... it's locked.

  “Won't be long,” he calls out.

  Yeah right...

  I make myself tea and toast and a Tassimo espresso for him, using the coffee machine.

  I'm standing sipping and eating in the kitchen doorway when he emerges.

  Our eyes catch as he pads off to get dressed. A minute later he's at my side.

  “So...” he says.

  “Yeah, so?” I reply questioningly, my heart rate picking up.

  “You no longer have a spider.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I'm relieved about that. Very relieved.

  “He was a biggie. I could see all his little eyes.”