Songbird Caged

by Lisa Edward

  Straight away, we could see an image of a peanut-shaped little person, who was moving what looked like their hand back and forth.

  “Is that it?” Kelli asked. “Is that my baby?”

  The technician nodded, and then proceeded to point out the head, arms and legs, then the umbilical cord and the placenta. All looked to be in good condition, and in the right place for a hassle-free pregnancy.

  Next, she turned up the volume and listened. A distinct second heartbeat could be heard.

  “Heartbeat sounds strong,” she told Kelli with a smile.

  Kelli turned to me where I was standing only a foot away, holding her hand. “Heartbeat sounds strong,” she repeated. “He’ll be big and strong like his daddy.”

  “What makes you think it’s a boy?” I asked with tears in my eyes.

  Kelli shrugged. “I just know. He’ll be just like his dad.” She laughed. “Then I’ll have two naughty boys to look after.”

  I laughed. Cooper was like a naughty boy, but he was going to make an excellent dad. I knew he’d be supportive of Kelli, and wrap her in cotton wool, and he would dote on this baby and love it unconditionally.

  “Coop will make a great dad,” I told her. “And you’ll be an awesome mum.”

  “And you’ll be an excellent godmother.” She beamed at me with tears in her eyes. “If you want to be, of course.”

  The technician took a couple of still shots of the scan and printed them off so Kelli could send them to Cooper.

  Kelli went and got dressed and met me out at reception, before we headed for the car.

  I could see her out the corner of my eye as I was driving.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, as she was turning the photos around in her hands.

  “Just trying to figure out which way is up. It made sense on the monitor when the technician pointed everything out to us. Now it just looks like a fuzzy black and white photo of a peanut.”

  I’d decided to take Kelli for lunch to Lincoln’s restaurant as a treat. I was hoping that Lincoln would be working, and I could give him an update on Reds’ progress, and assure him we hadn’t forgotten about him. If he wasn’t working, then we would get to sample Thomas, the head chef’s cooking.

  As it turned out, Lincoln was working, and came out to say hello when he noticed us through the servery.

  I filled him in on what had been happening with Reds, which wasn’t much, and asked him if he would be available to come by and look at the kitchen space when we were up to that stage. I wanted him to decide on the layout of the kitchen, seeing as he would be managing it and working in it. I also wanted his opinion on the best appliances to buy, and the best suppliers of fresh food.

  By the time Kelli and I left with our bellies full of delicious food, Lincoln was fired up, and had a list of things to research before our next meeting.

  “Okay, so one last thing to do before we head home, Kell,” I told her as we climbed into the car.

  “Where are we going now?” she asked, brow raised.

  “To buy you a new car.”

  Plonking myself down very inelegantly on the couch, I kicked off my shoes. After running around all day I was totally exhausted, but also happy with what had been achieved.

  Kelli had been wary when we had first arrived at the caryard, but when she saw a shiny red Mazda 3 that she fell in love with, she went into negotiation mode.

  By the time we left, she’d beaten the guy down by quite a few thousand dollars and pushed until he’d thrown in almost every upgrade imaginable.

  The sun was just starting to set by the time I’d gotten home, and I could see the red and purple hues in the sky over the bay as I looked out through Cole’s massive windows.

  I longed to go out for a leisurely walk along the beach, but was still nervous about bumping into Patrick and being dragged into the bushes, or the ocean. I knew Cole had been keeping in close contact with the police, but they hadn’t had any leads on Patrick, and to be honest, I didn’t think they were really looking for him. He hadn’t actually succeeded in his plan to rape me, thanks to Cole, so the most the police could charge him for was assault.

  I looked around. This apartment was so big, and I felt so alone. I also missed all my personal belongings: my photos, DVDs, and CDs. Most of my clothes had gradually moved here, but it wasn’t the same.

  I wanted to go home.

  My first instinct was to call Cole, and invite him over. That’s funny, invite him over to his own apartment. But we needed to spend some time apart, especially after he’d carried on like a spoilt brat on the way home from Pops’ visit the other day.

  He had taken an instant dislike to Dr Andrew the second he saw us walk through the door together. When the doctor had apparently been ‘checking me out’ Cole was seething, but when he gave me his business card and kind of asked me to dinner, well, I swear I saw steam coming out of Cole’s ears.

  On the way home, I had endured spurts of the silent treatment, intermingled with the ranting of a five year-old. Honestly, if I lived to be one hundred I would never be able to figure out what went through the minds of men.

  Of course, he had also been very sweet when he’d told Pops and his dad about my attack, and I knew he was upset about Pops being so sick. When the conversation had eventually calmed down, and moved off Randy Andy, as Cole had decided to call the doctor, and onto Pops, his eyes had looked so sad. I had almost been tempted to let him stay the night.

  Almost.

  I picked up my phone, and decided to text instead of call.

  R U home?

  Almost straight away.

  Yep. R U?

  I smiled. At least he wasn’t out trawling bars for bimbos.

  Yep. Just going to soak in the tub and catch an early nite. U?

  Gonna catch an early nite & think about u soaking in the tub ;) nite babe. X

  He sounded sad. Should I invite him over? No, probably not.

  Nite. C U in the morning. Xxo

  The phone rang, waking me from the most amazing dream I’d ever had.

  I answered after the third ring, out of breath. “Hello,” I panted, trying to calm my racing heart.

  “Well, hello there,” Cole’s deep gravelly voice replied. “Am I interrupting something?”

  I could hear the smile in his tone, and I tried to steady my own voice before answering.

  “No, nothing. You just woke me up, that’s all.”

  “Sounds like you were having one hell of a dream. Was I in it?” he asked playfully.

  I blushed, thankful that he couldn’t see me. “Ah, actually … yes, you were.”

  “Oh, babe, tell me all about it.” He had a melted-chocolate quality to his voice that sent shivers up my spine.

  “Where are you?” I asked, not wanting him to be in the middle of the supermarket, or driving right now.

  “I’m in your bed.” He sighed. “Are you in my bed?”

  I smiled. “Yes, I’m in your bed.” I lay back down and got comfortable. “So, I had a dream that things got a little heated between us, and, you know, we did stuff.”

  This was really embarrassing. I’d never had phone sex before, but I’d thought it would be easy to just say it out loud. It wasn’t.

  He chuckled. “You’re not getting out of it that easily. I want details.”

  I took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Closing my eyes, I tried to visualise the dream again. “We came home from visiting Pops the other night, and I wanted to get changed out of my dress. I came up to the bedroom, and you followed me. You cupped my face in your hands, and asked me what I wanted.”

  “Where were we?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Where in the room were we? I want to picture it as you’re telling me.”

  “Oh, okay. We were standing at the end of the bed. The lamps on the side tables were on, but not the main light, so it was dim lighting.”

  “Okay. Keep going.”

  “So, you asked me what I wanted.”
r />   “And what did you say?” he asked quietly.

  I hesitated for a moment, and bit my lip for courage. “I want you.”

  I heard him exhale into the phone.

  “I said I want you to kiss me, and to touch me. Then you ran your hands down the sides of my body, skimming your thumbs over my breasts until you reached my hips. I closed my eyes. I could feel your breath against my cheek, and then your lips brushed against mine. Softly, ever so softy, just teasing me with the slightest taste of you.”

  “Was that what you wanted, just a taste?”

  I sighed. “No, I wanted more. So much more. I opened my eyes, and you were watching me as I leaned in and kissed you fully on the lips. Your tongue was in my mouth, searching out mine. You lightly bit my bottom lip, and I pressed my body up against yours. I could feel you were getting hard, and it made me want you even more.”

  “Then what did you do?”

  “Then you ran your hands down my thighs to the hem of my dress, and lifted it off over my head.”

  “What underwear were you wearing? I want to picture it.” His voice was soft as he asked me for more details.

  “I was wearing the cream push-up bra and little thong you bought me in Paris, which is actually what I was wearing under that dress the other day.”

  I heard him groan on the other end of the phone. “I wish I’d known you were wearing that set. I would’ve liked to have seen it on.”

  I smiled. “Then, after my dress was off, I undid the buttons on your shirt and slid it off over your shoulders. I didn’t have the cast on my wrist in the dream, so I could use both hands. We were still kissing. Your lips were so soft but the kiss was strong, not a sloppy kiss, but a proper manly kiss.”

  He chuckled. “Good to hear it was a proper manly kiss, and not a sloppy wet one.”

  I chuckled back. “I don’t know how to describe it. It was just—it was how a kiss should be. It was perfect. Anyway, then I undid your pants and dropped them to the floor, and you unhooked my bra.”

  “Was I hard?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  I blushed, and was thankful once more that he couldn’t see me. “Yes, you were very, very hard.” I sighed. “And I could feel you pressing up against me. I could feel the little balls on the piercing through the fabric of your boxers. Then you kissed my jaw, and down my neck to my chest. You, um …”

  “I what, babe? What did I do? Don’t be embarrassed.”

  I exhaled. “You licked and sucked on my nipples, making them hard.”

  “Did you like that?” he asked softly.

  “Uh-huh. Then you ran your hands down over my backside and my thighs, then back up into my hair. You asked me if this was what I wanted.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I want more. I ran my hand down over your stomach and put my hand inside your boxers. I stroked back up the length of you. I told you I want this.”

  “You wanted me inside you,” he sighed.

  I could hear his breathing on the other end of the phone was getting heavier. So was mine as I relived my dream.

  “What happened next, babe?”

  “We climbed onto the bed, and we kissed some more. Then you started kissing down the length of my body, like you did in Paris, only this time I didn’t stop you. You slid my thong off and you started licking and kissing me.”

  I could feel my heart-rate picking up as I remembered the dream, the images still crystal clear in my mind.

  “You put your fingers inside me as you sucked and licked me.”

  “Did it feel good, babe? Tell me how it felt.”

  “It felt amazing. I could feel you devouring me, your tongue all over me, your fingers inside me. I ran my fingers through your hair and pushed my hips up off the bed. I didn’t want you to stop.”

  “Did you come?” he asked hoarsely. “Did I make you come?”

  “You were teasing me, you wouldn’t let me come. I was so close so many times, but you said you wanted to be inside me.”

  I heard him groan again. His breathing was so laboured. “Sorry,” he murmured under his breath.

  I smiled. He was apologising for something that had happened in a dream.

  “Then you made your way back up my body, and kissed me lightly on the lips.”

  “Was it okay to kiss you, after I’d been doing that?” He sounded curious.

  I chuckled. “It was okay. I ran my fingers through the back of your hair again, and pulled your lips down to mine and we kissed, passionately, desperately. Then you positioned yourself and …”

  “And what?” he asked urgently.

  “And you were inside me. Slowly at first, just a little bit. You raised my hands up over my head, and interlaced your fingers with mine. You asked me how I wanted it, how I wanted you to fuck me.”

  “Tell me how you wanted me to fuck you,” he asked breathlessly.

  “Slow and deep. So you went slowly, little bit by little bit.”

  I closed my eyes, I could almost feel it, the more I concentrated on what had happened.

  “Then you were all the way inside me, moving slowly. Pulling almost all the way out, then plunging back inside again. I wrapped my legs around your hips, and ran my fingernails down your back.”

  “I like that,” he moaned. “Did it feel good, babe? Did you like having me inside you, fucking you?”

  “It felt so good, you were so hard. You liked it too, you said …”

  “What did I say?” he asked.

  I put my forearm over my face and was silent for a moment.

  “What did I say, babe?” he prompted.

  “You said I was so tight and so wet, you’d never felt anything like it.”

  I heard him groan on the other end of the phone. “I bet you would be.”

  “Then I whispered something in your ear.”

  I could hear Cole panting on the other end of the phone. “What did you whisper?”

  “Harder.”

  He groaned louder this time. I could only imagine what he was doing as I relayed my dream to him.

  “We rolled over, and I was on top. I sat up, resting my hands on your chest, and you held onto my hips. We got faster and harder, and it felt so unbelievable. I could feel it building. I was so close. And then—”

  “Then what?”

  “Then the phone rang, and you woke me up.”

  He was quiet for a moment. I could almost hear his brain processing what I’d just said.

  “Sorry,” was all he could manage to say before sighing. “Ah, chalk that one up to really sucky timing.”

  I laughed. “I’m going to turn my phone off at night from now on.”

  “I noticed in your dream you didn’t go down on me,” he commented.

  “Well it was my dream,” I retorted.

  “So, is that not something you would do?”

  I smiled. “Just because it didn’t happen in this dream, doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about doing it.”

  I hung up quickly, leaving him to contemplate that thought.

  IT WAS the day of the dreaded dinner at Cole’s parent’s house. I had thought it would be fun to go and give Prue a hard time, but as the time drew nearer, I was starting to think that maybe this wasn’t one of my better ideas.

  I knew Cole’s mum really didn’t want me there, and Prue and her parents were not going to be welcoming me with open arms. Really, only Cole and maybe Victor would be nice and talk to me. I hadn’t even heard if Pops was well enough to go. At least if I knew that he was going it would give me something to look forward to.

  I was slopping around in Cole’s Bourbon Street T-shirt that fit me like a dress, and my Ugg boots, when the lift dinged, announcing that someone had arrived.

  I was expecting Jason. He had offered to come over and play fairy godmother again, and help me with my hair, seeing as the plaster cast was still hindering even the most basic tasks.

  “Hey, beautiful girl, is that what you’re wearing tonight?”

  I
turned to find Cole appraising me with a cheeky grin on his face.

  “No, not exactly,” I said, playing along. “I thought I might add a belt and some earrings.”

  I looked down at the T-shirt, remembering the first time I had seen Cole wearing it. It was the first time that Kelli and I had gone to see The Sons play, before we knew that Cole was the lead singer. He had stepped out under the spotlights on stage wearing this T-shirt, and I had nearly choked on my drink.

  He came over and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tight. “You know you could wear that old T-shirt. You make anything look good.”

  He nuzzled my neck, running his hands up into my hair. I could feel his breath in my ear making my own breath catch.

  What happened to not putting me in awkward positions where I had to fight with myself?

  “Babe, what are you doing?” I asked a little breathlessly.

  “Sorry,” he said, trying to steady himself. “I just can’t stop thinking about the dream you had the other night. Listening to you tell me about it was such a turn-on.” He looked me square in the eye. “Tell me you don’t want it to be real instead of just a dream. Tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you.”

  I hesitated for a moment. “Don’t you dream about things that aren’t real?” I looked at him curiously. “Have you ever dreamt about me?”

  He smiled down at me. “Sure, I dream about you all the time.”

  I raised my eyebrows, prompting him to continue.

  “Usually, we’re either hanging at the beach at night like we used to do last summer, or you’re playing piano at the bar, and you dedicate a song to me.”

  “Really? So you don’t dream about sex?” I found that really surprising.

  “Of course. We have this moment where you confess your undying love for me, then we come home and fuck each other’s brains out.”

  I slapped him on the chest. “I think we need to re-establish those boundaries,” I said firmly.

  It was so typically Cole. How could I have thought for a minute that his dreams wouldn’t revolve around sex?

  The elevator went ding again and Jason strode into the foyer, bag of hairdressing tricks in hand.

  Jason set up on the end of the island bench in the kitchen while I made coffee. He pulled out hairbrushes, bottles of spray, and packets of hairclips. He had straightening irons, curling irons, and everything in between.