Let Me Be Your Last

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  ‘Oh, they’ve done so much more than that,’ she replied, her hand buried in my hair. ‘Behind those corsets, Maid Marion is a proper goer.’

  ‘Lucky Robin.’

  ‘It must be the tights,' she laughed. She was twisting my hair between her fingers and I was still clinging to her. Together we were catching our breath and trying to contain something that had the potential to be bigger than both of us. I traced my finger along her cheek and tilted her head until she offered her mouth to me, full and parted, ready to take me on. The kiss that I thought was magical ramped up to something more. ‘It feels good to kiss you,' she said, tracing her hand across my shoulder.

  ‘So good. Really good.’ I was on a high, couldn’t think straight.

  ‘You had better get planning our third date.’

  ‘Already planned it,’ I replied.

  We carried on kissing on that patchy piece of grass under the tree until she reluctantly told me that she had to go home. But another five minutes of kissing passed us by before she did anything about it. Not even a twitch of movement to pull back or move away. I could feel and sense her reluctance to leave but knew that this was her life. We wouldn’t be able to have long, late-night dates. We would have to plan them, pine for them, but when we were finally together, the time spent yearning for each other would be worth it.

  I held my hand on her thigh for most of the drive home. At times, she looked down to it with a smile on her face; other times, she placed her hand over the top, and once, she moved it down further towards her knee, away from longed-for places, only to replace it a few seconds later.

  ‘Do you mind me asking you to drop me here instead of outside my house?’ she asked as I pulled up to the top of her road where I had waited for her a few hours ago.

  ‘I understand,' I replied, because, fuck, I did. We were complicated. Gem was a divorced mum of two. Add to that a nosy ex-mother-in-law and a child I taught in my class, and we were headed straight down to complicated central.

  We sat in silence, neither one of us wanting to break the connection. I held her hand and she kissed my fingers. I caressed her face and she melted against mine. I was falling and I wanted to take her with me. ‘That was a great second date,' she whispered. ‘Plus we made it through the evening without any more pussy jokes.'

  ‘Always commendable.’

  ‘Kiss me,’ she said, looking at me with her clear blue eyes. She was so fucking beautiful and she didn’t have a clue. I moved her hair behind her shoulder and kissed my way up her neck, nipping and licking along her soft, pale skin, enjoying the short whimpers and moans she was trying desperately to cover up.

  ‘Don't hide them from me; I need to hear you,' I pleaded as I cupped her cheek in my hand. My other hand had dropped lower down to her thigh, grazing the cheek of her arse wrapped tightly in those fucking jeans that had been tormenting me all night. She might have been small but everything about her was a tightly wrapped, amazing package. Our kisses gathered speed. She angled her body towards me and my hand found its way between her thighs, which she opened willingly for me. One single finger stroked down her heat and she gasped, clinging to my wrist in an attempt to stop me, or make me continue; I wasn't sure which.

  ‘You shouldn’t hear me like this. I’m moaning and panting like you’ve taken me to bed. It’s a kiss, just a kiss that may have turned into something more, but if you continue doing that, I feel like…’

  ‘What do you feel like? Tell me,’ I asked gruffly against her ear, knowing what she was about to say but still desperate to hear her say it.

  ‘Like I’m going to come against your fingers.’

  ‘Fuck, Gem.’ I pinched my eyes tight and tried to steady my breathing. One of us had to have some sense here; it might as well be me. But my fingers were still circling her heat and she was still panting against me. Any semblance of rational thought appeared to be leaving my grasp with every second that passed us by.

  ‘Not here; not like this,' she said, moving my hand and clasping our fingers together. She was right. I knew she was right. When the time came, I wanted to take my time and explore everything about her. I wanted to know what areas of her body made that fantastic whimpering noise get stronger and louder.

  We broke away from each other and she opened the door, still reluctant to leave. I got out and met her on the pavement, holding the hand that I didn’t want to stop feeling against mine.

  ‘When can I see you again?’ I asked as I pulled her in.

  ‘Monday morning at school.’

  ‘It’s not enough,’ I replied. ‘I see you for two minutes and that’s meant to be enough? It’s never enough.’ She sighed against my mouth and kissed me like I would never see her again. I held her arm as she tried to move away. ‘When can I see you?’ I repeated against her ear.

  ‘I’m not sure. I can’t commit to anything until I know someone can watch the kids. I wish I could. I’ll ring you as soon as I know.’ I let her go after first refusing, pulling her to me, enjoying the feel of her in my arms. She held onto my hand with as much force as me. I wasn’t sure how many more times we would have to experience the dance of backwards and forwards but not one part of me questioned that I didn’t want to feel this way.

  She was worth the pain of letting her go.

  Every time.

  Chapter 25

  Gem

  His pull was becoming too much.

  My need for him was growing every day.

  I was starting to fall off the edge knowing full well there wasn’t a safety rope.

  Seeing him at school twice a day wasn’t enough. He wasn’t mine at school. He belonged to so many other people. Little people, parents, colleagues. We had to be too careful, too guarded. There was always an obstacle in our way. Text messages and phone calls were our main way of communicating. They started to become lifelines tethering him to me, but when I curled into bed and listened to the voices, all I could hear was questions. How long would it take for him to grow tired of waiting? What if he met someone who could give him unlimited time and attention? When would I stop being enough?

  I started to grow obsessed with when I could see him again. I would sound out the girls to see if they could babysit or hope that Jay would offer to take them for the weekend. I would try to steer opportunities to work in our favour. When Jay's mum offered to have the boys to allow me to do something that was out of the ordinary for me, I immediately started planning. Our time getting to know each other was limited, which didn't rest easily with me despite knowing there wasn't much I could do to change it. Josh was insistent that he wanted to arrange our next date, but when I explained that I wanted to do something normal, something that I enjoyed, he stopped protesting. I had told him to be ready for six-thirty in the morning. He laughed; I didn't. His laughter stopped when he realised I wasn't joking. Josh told me I was mad and that he hadn't seen that time of the morning in years. I reminded him of our all-night date, so he readily agreed to be waiting on the dot.

  As I pulled up to his flat, he was already outside. I hadn’t told him anything about where I was taking him. ‘What the fuck is this?’ he laughed as I wound my window down.

  ‘This morning we are going to take part in one of my favourite things in the world to do.’

  ‘Taking a load of crap to the rubbish tip?’ he asked as he studied the contents of my car.

  ‘No. Taking a load of crap to the local car boot sale!’

  ‘You’re fascinating,’ he said as he got in the car. ‘Even at this time in the morning.’

  ‘It’s all about the hustle,’ I joked as I moved closer to him, pulling his head towards me and kissing him full on his mouth. ‘Ready to car boot?’

  ‘Ready.’

  We arrived to join the huge queue of cars and were finally ushered into our space, where we started unpacking the car. I loved car boots. Elle, Abi and Kate usually helped me after much protesting. Abi would joke that it had to start so early because people were embarrassed about selling all thei
r old junk and wouldn't do so during the civilised hours of nine to five.

  ‘Is this a regular thing for you?’ Josh asked as he propped up some old teddies on a blanket.

  ‘I’m not here every weekend if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘But you actually enjoy doing this?’ he asked, looking around in disbelief.

  ‘It started off as a way of making some extra money by selling old toys, baby clothes, that kind of thing. The girls started to come with me and it turned into something fun. We always laugh until we can’t feel our stomachs, set each other challenges, and stuff ourselves with bacon sandwiches. What’s not to love?’

  ‘Challenges?' he asked, slightly sceptically.

  ‘I’m guessing you’ve never been to a car boot before?’

  ‘Can’t say I have, no.’

  ‘Usually, we all bring something that we’ve been given or have in our houses that we hate. Something ugly, tacky or terrifying. Once, Abi sold a drawing of Paul McCartney. She can’t draw. It was rubbish. He had a lopsided mouth and no ear. Snapped up for a pound,’ I said, clicking my fingers. ‘It’s amazing what people buy. You may hate whatever you’re selling, but there’s someone out there who will love it. The challenge is the last one to sell whatever they’ve brought with them has to buy the bacon sandwiches and a round of tea.’

  ‘You should have told me this, especially since bacon and tea are involved. I have plenty of rubbish I could sell.’

  ‘That would have given away the venue for the date,’ I replied.

  ‘You’re calling this a date? I was expecting something to top mine. Something epically epic,’ he smiled.

  ‘Any time I get with you is epically epic,’ I said, watching him as he spread some of Theo’s old books across the blanket. He twisted his head towards me, jumped to his feet, and with no other preparation, he was standing in front of me, eyes focused on my mouth, hands hard against my hips. No preparation for this. No preparation at all.

  ‘Gem,’ he said, his voice laced with something more, a promise, a demand; I wasn’t sure. ‘I’m not sure I can stay here without touching you.’

  ‘That could be a problem,’ I replied, not recognising my own voice.

  ‘I’m beginning to think I more than like you.’

  ‘More than like is how I feel about you too,’ I said as he pushed his hand against my neck, exposing me to him. Goosebumps erupted down my arms and I felt light headed and woozy as he threaded his hands through my hair and every nerve in my body began to tingle and vibrate.

  ‘I want to give you so much more,' he sighed.

  A voice interrupted us. ‘Excuse me, sweetheart; how much for this?’ A woman held a book aloft and appeared to be completely none the wiser about the connection that was taking place in front of her. I closed my eyes on a gasp, trying to gather my senses but not wanting to break away from him. I knew this was dangerous. This man who was twisting himself into my happiness had the ability to cure me or break me into pieces.

  Josh’s hand remained in my hair, and without looking up, he answered, his voice deep and low.

  ‘Take it. It’s yours.’

  Chapter 26

  Josh

  I was irritated. I shouldn’t have been, but I couldn’t bloody help it. It was becoming obvious that car boot sales were not great places to have a date with a woman that you truly believed was spectacular. Reason one being I couldn’t touch her how I wanted to, and reason two being that there were constant swarms of people asking her ridiculous questions.

  We perched on the boot of her car, thighs touching, shoulders resting, gazes glancing. Every time I started a conversation about having a desperate need to see her more, or we took the tentative steps of trying to arrange more time for us around the kids, another fucking person would pick up a vase and ask if she had it in another colour.

  ‘I love how patient you are,’ I said. ‘I’d be tempted to start pelting customers with cuddly toys just to get them away.’

  ‘It's part of the experience,' she replied, laughing. ‘Once, I had Theo with me. He was sitting in his pushchair and someone asked me how much I wanted for it, like Theo was demonstrating how to bloody use it.'

  ‘Fuck me.’

  ‘Come on, Josh,’ she laughed. ‘Get into the car boot spirit.’

  ‘I would but we haven't had a chance to talk yet. I want you to myself. I have to share you with enough people.' The words left my mouth before I thought them through. If I had taken a second to analyse them, I would have filed them away for another time, but now they were out there, and from the look on Gem's face, I had touched a nerve that what was open and raw. ‘Oh, shit. I didn't mean that. I mean, I did. I do. Jesus. I’m sorry. That was the last thing I wanted to say.’ I felt a slight shift in her body as she moved away, thighs, shoulders and hands no longer touching. Fuck. ‘Gem—’

  ‘I’m fine. I understand. There are lots of obstacles in our way. Do you want to cut your losses before we’re in too deep?’ She looked dejected, broken, exhausted from the dialogue she was familiar with because the voices in her head repeated it too.

  I took her hand. ‘I’m already in deep.’ Her smile returned, as did the touch of our thighs and shoulders. I could feel a tremble there and I wasn’t sure which one of us it was coming from. She was about to speak when a lady approached the table and started asking questions about a puzzle. A fucking puzzle. I was at a loss as to what more she needed to know than yes, all the pieces are there, and to be quite honest, I was ready to frog march her away to another car so that I could continue our conversation, but I knew the moment had been lost.

  ‘Have you had a good morning?' Gem asked, linking her arm through mine. We hadn't picked up our conversation; there hadn't been a chance, but I was happy I had planted the little seed about how I was feeling. Now it just needed time to flourish.

  ‘We’re done?’ I asked, looking down at the blanket and the wobbly paste table where some old toys balanced precariously. There were a few items left but most of them had been sold.

  ‘Yeah, this is the best bit. We get to look around.’

  After giving away what was left to the people next to us, we packed up our things and started walking around the other stalls. She was so fucking excited and I started to see why. Car boots were a fascinating glimpse into other people’s lives. Some of these guys could sell a hamburger to a vegan. Honestly, forget car boots; they should have been considering a career change into sales. I couldn’t help but look at some of the items and wonder why they had to be here. Why were they selling that ugly vase? Did the sale of an old Michael Jackson CD mean that their family would eat today? And that was why I was now carrying a broken shoe rack and assorted bric-a-brac that would most likely end up on Gem’s next car boot adventure.

  ‘I have an idea.’ I pointed over to the start of a row of stalls. ‘Starting there and working our way down, we have to buy each other a gift. Not just any gift. I’m talking the mother of all car boot tat, the ugliest, most pointless gift ever created. We get £2 each and the one with the best, most pointless gift gets to choose where we go for lunch.’

  ‘I don’t think you realise that you’ve just set a challenge you can’t possibly win. You are talking to the champion buyer of car boot tat. But I accept your challenge.’ She handed me some change from her pocket. ‘Meet me back here in fifteen minutes. Eyes on the prize,’ she said, holding two fingers towards her eyes and back to mine.

  ‘Eyes definitely on the prize,’ I replied as she walked away, her gorgeous arse tempting me to follow.

  Fifteen minutes later, I spotted her as she swung a bag from side to side, laughing like she had found a trinket box worth millions. ‘You look pleased with yourself,’ I said, realising how captivating she looked when she was happy.

  ‘I certainly am.’

  ‘You go first because you can’t possibly win,’ I said, shrugging.

  ‘Look at you all confident in your tat.’

  I smiled, really smiled, because I’d
never seen her looking so joyful. ‘You can talk the talk…’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah. Here you go.' She handed me a plastic bag. It was all wrinkled and torn with a stain on the front. A hole had appeared in the bottom, which perfectly summed up everything about a car boot sale. I had to wonder if everyone was playing the sell your crap for a laugh game, as that would explain most of the objects for sale. I unrolled the bag and let the contents spill out onto my lap.

  Holy Fuck. What the hell?

  I covered my mouth with my hand to stop myself from laughing, or maybe even screaming. ‘Wow! I mean…wow. You've surpassed yourself.' I pinched my fingers around the arm of a doll that had been maimed at the elbow and held it up. It was really quite a sight. The doll had no hair at one side and little tufts of blonde curls that had been snipped off with the bluntest scissors in the world. One of her eyes was open and the other was glued shut. Both were circled with thick black rings from a permanent marker. There were bright felt tip scribbles and what looked suspiciously like the word ‘slag' written across her body. Thankfully, a tattered dress covered it, but it only added to the scary as fuck effect.

  Gem clapped her hands together. ‘I've won, haven't I? I mean…come on!'

  ‘Firstly, I need to know your thoughts behind it. Why did this jump out at you?’

  ‘Well, I thought you could sit it in your classroom and tell the kids she'll come to their houses in the middle of the night if they don't behave,' she replied. ‘It's perfect. Forget behaviour charts and stickers. This is the way forward.'

  ‘And you're a mother?' I said jokingly. ‘I'm not sure how this sits with me. If this is your style of behaviour management I might need to have a chat with the child protection coordinator at school tomorrow.' She nudged against me and wrapped her arms around herself to stop her giggles.

  ‘Come on then. Show me yours,’ she said, arching her eyebrow.

  I laughed out fuck and took her hand. ‘I’d love to. There’s nothing I’d like more.’