by Daiko, SC
“Well, Harry has a business dinner tonight,” Megan continues. “So, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming along and keeping me company.” She pauses. “You could teach the group some salsa steps, if you like.”
Meg knows how much I love to dance, and how I used to go to salsa classes with Paulo when we were in college. “You think they’d enjoy that?” I ask. “I mean, teens today are more into mosh pits than Latin moves, aren’t they?”
“Hey, they’ll love it.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “The kids that go to the club aren’t the radical types. Don’t forget they watch Strictly Come Dancing and vote for their favourite celebrities every weekend.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” I say, letting out a pent-up breath. “What time?”
“Seven thirty in St Mary’s Church hall. You know where that is?”
“Yep. I’ll see you there.”
It’ll be better than spending Saturday night on my own, I suppose.
I spend the morning on laundry and housework, and the afternoon Christmas shopping at the Cribbs Causeway mall. Back at the flat, I make myself an omelette for supper, washed down with a glass of red. Then I shuffle on my coat, pull on my woollen gloves and pom-pom hat, and head outside. The night air is freezing and my breath comes out as steam.
I walk quickly to keep warm, and soon I’m pushing open the heavy wooden door to the church hall. Loud pop music vibrates off the walls and groups of kids are spread around the room… some playing table tennis, others at the pool table, and the rest just sitting, hanging out with their friends.
Megan kisses me on both cheeks and indicates towards the far corner. “I forgot to tell you we have Ryan helping out. He’s a volunteer as part of his Duke of Edinburgh award.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I feel the blood drain from my face.
She gives me a strange look. “Are you alright, my lovely?”
“Yes, fine,” I say, pulling off my hat and gloves, and shouldering off my coat. Stay calm stay calm stay calm. I glance towards Ryan. He hasn’t seen me yet; he’s surrounded by a group of teens his sister’s age, and they’re fangirling him big-time. I sneak an admiring peek. He’s dressed in a tight black t-shirt and black thigh-hugging jeans, and he doesn’t seem to mind hanging out with younger kids. It’s a side to him I haven’t seen before, a sweet soft side that make my heart squeeze.
What does he see in me? I ask myself for the millionth time. It’s not like I’ve had guys falling over themselves to date me in recent years. After Paulo, I deliberately put a barrier up and deflected any interest from the opposite sex. Ryan has pierced through my shell, it seems, and has burrowed into my very soul. And now I’m laid bare to him… vulnerable... exposed.
A nudge from Megan. “Did you bring some music?”
I hold up my iPod, and she points towards the docking station on a table to the left. She strides to the centre of the room and claps her hands. “Listen up, guys. As a special treat, Miss Matthews is going to teach you a bit of salsa dancing.”
It’s then that I feel Ryan’s eyes burning into me; I glance across the room, and our gazes lock.
I go up to Beth. “Need a hand?”
“I’d love a hand,” she says. “Do you know anything about salsa?”
“I can manage,” I grin. No need to tell her I’m almost a pro. “What would you like me to do?”
“If you can help me get the kids into a straight line, that would be perfect.” She turns to the redheaded teacher. “And you, Megan, I mean Mrs Jenkins, would you look after the music?”
I love watching Beth take charge, love watching her stand in front of the group and demonstrate the basic steps. A few of the kids get the hang of them straight away, others don’t… but they all seem to be having fun. I wanna have fun too.
“Shall we show them how to do it?” I go up to her and suggest.
Her eyes dart to Mrs Jenkins and then to me. “I don’t see why not. Purely as a demonstration, of course.”
We dance, and it’s magical. I signal the turns through my hands and body frame, my fingers occasionally grazing across her back, waist or arm as we swing our hips through the different moves.
Before I know it, the kids have formed a circle around us, and they’re clapping and whooping, and I catch my little sis puffed up with pride, grinning from ear- to-ear.
Without warning, the music stops. “That’s it, I’m afraid,” Mrs Jenkins calls out. “I’m sure Miss Matthews is tired.”
Reluctantly, I let go of Beth, but not before whispering, “I gotta see you tonight. We really need to talk. Can I stop by? I’ll tell the family I’m meeting Josh…”
She sucks in a breath and releases it slowly. “Last night I wanted to do that, wanted to talk to you. It was my bad for falling asleep. I agree, we really need to discuss how we’re going to proceed.”
“Good. I’ll take Sara home first.” I narrow my eyes. “Wait up for me, okay?”
“Ok,” she says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She spins on her heel and I watch her walk away, my gaze on her peachy rounded ass swaying in her tight jeans. Fuck, I’m hard for her, fucking hard.
“Hmm,” Megan says when I join her back at the music docking station. “You seem to be rather friendly with that young man. I could tell from your body language.”
I dismiss her accusation with a laugh. “We were dancing. What did you expect?”
She shakes her head. “I’m just looking after my bestie. But, be careful, my lovely... I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”
My cheek burn, and I stare at the floor. “You don’t need to worry about me,” I say with false confidence.
I help Meg tidy up the hall after the last of the kids has gone home. She’s still giving me strange looks, and I get the impression she’d like to say more. But she doesn’t, thank God; she gives me a ride back to my block of flats in her car, and we groan to each other about how much marking and report writing we’ll have to struggle through tomorrow.
My phone pings as I step through the front door. A message from Ryan.
I’ll be with you in half an hour.
I go for a quick shower, brush my teeth, and change into leggings and a cami. A touch of mascara and some cherry-red lip gloss, and I’m ready for him.
19
He pecks me on the cheek as I usher him into my living area; he smells of woodland, musk and Ryan. My heart beats wildly in my chest, and tingles spread through my body.
“So,” he says, perching at one end of my sofa. “Who’s gonna go first?”
“W.. w… what do you mean?” I stutter, perching at the opposite end.
“Who’s gonna use the L-word first? Although I did use it a while back, when you were about to break off with me.”
“But that was in the heat of the moment, wasn’t it?” I knit my brows. “How can you be in love with me?”
“Why are you still in denial?” His eyes flame. “Give in to it, Beth. Allow yourself to be loved.”
“It’s not that simple,” I say, and there’s pain in my voice, pain that has squeezed up from my breast.
He reaches for my hand, and pulls me slowly into him. “What’s blocking you?”
I lace my fingers with his. “I told you about Paulo, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, and I wanted to punch the fucker.”
“We’d been together since I met him in my final year of high school.” I pause and consider what to say next. “He was my first real boyfriend. My first lover. And my last before I met you.”
“Jesus, Beth! He treated you like fucking shit.”
I sigh and rest my head on Ryan’s powerful pecs. “I gave up a lot only to have it thrown back in my face. It’s hard for me to believe in love after that. Do you understand?”
“I’m not like him, Beth,” he groans. “I swear I’m not like that fucking twat.”
I lean back and stare deep into his beautiful deep-blue eyes. Is he speaking the truth? Oh, God, I hope he is.
He shakes his head. “My mother knows about us.”
I feel myself stiffen, and I let out a gasp.
“It’s okay,” he soothes, “she won’t tell anyone. She does wanna meet you, though.”
“How did she find out?” I ask, panic-stricken.
“She was awake when I got home last night. I had to come out with it. And, I’ve been thinking, if Mam supports us we’ll find it easier. All you need to do is win her over, princesa. How can she not love you?”
“You make it sound so easy,” I say.
“All I know is I can’t be without you. The past week was hell not knowing if you’d finished it between us forever. I don’t think anything else could be more difficult.”
I look straight at him, begging my heart to still. “It was hard for me too.”
She lays her head back on my chest, and swivels her body so that she’s lying fully on top of me. I reach down and place my hands under her armpits, pulling her up until her face is level with mine. She’s small and light and absolutely fucking perfect. “Look at me, Beth. Look at me, please.”
Her eyes shine in the low light, and she smiles that sexy smile of hers. It’s all I can do not to tear off her clothes and fuck her senseless. But I won’t. At least not the senseless part. I need her mind to engage with her body and admit she loves me.
I cup her chin and gently bring her face down to mine. We kiss, slow and gentle, our lips pressing, our tongues exploring. I breathe in her fresh floral scent, and taste the mint in her mouth. I run my hands down her shoulders, her back, her peachy rounded ass, and I pull her into me, my cock hard against the tops of her firm thighs.
She lets out a quiet moan and writhes her hips, leaving me in no doubt about what she wants. “Oh, Ryan,” she breathes.
I tease off her cami, and she slips her hands under my t-shirt, helping me to wriggle out of it. I reach around to unclip her bra, and she squirms until that too meets the same fate as our other clothes. She bends her head and rains kisses to my tats, her tongue tickling my skin.
More wriggling, and she’s struggled out of her leggings and knickers. Then she straddles me, and her eyes lock with mine.
Say it, Beth. Say that you love me.
But she doesn’t. She leans her body backwards, and grabs hold of my thighs. Jesus, she looks so fucking beautiful, her tits pear-shaped and perky, her pretty pink pussy exposed. I flick her clit with my thumb. “Mmm,” she breathes, bearing down on me. “That feels nice.”
I stare at her tits, jiggling above me as I rub her puffy lips, her dark nipples hard as bullets. I slip two fingers into her slippery warmth, and curl them to find the spot.
“Oh, fuck,” she hisses, “that’s perfect …”
I love it when she swears. It doesn’t happen often, but, when it does, it’s stunning.
She’s riding my hand now like she’s on a fucking horse, pushing down on my fingers, her pussy grasping and sucking at them like a hungry mouth. She closes her eyes and comes hard, her breath stuttering, her body juddering.
“Yes, Ryan, yes” she shrieks.
Say it, Beth. Say that you love me.
But she doesn’t say it. Instead, she slides to the floor and takes my hand to lick my fingers clean.
Dirty girl.
Concentrating hard, she unbuttons my jeans and helps me pull them off.
My dick stands proud, swollen and weeping precum.
She smiles a naughty smile and straddles me again, wincing slightly with initial discomfort and then lowering herself slowly until she’s swallowed me whole.
I let out a grunt and thrust up at her, but she leans forwards and presses a kiss to my lips. “Let me do the work,” she murmurs into my mouth. “I want to ride your cock.”
She throws her head back and arches her spine, leaning on her forearms as she controls the penetration, and it feels fucking incredible. She pushes herself up and down on me, my dick gripped by her tight little hole.
“Do you know how you feel, Beth? Do you know how you fucking feel with your pussy squeezing my cock like that?”
She bends forwards, her thighs clamped to my hips, and her eyes sparkle. “How do I feel?”
“You feel fucking awesome,” I groan.
“Good.”
She writhes and rocks and takes all of me, and I’m so proud of her. She lowers her face until it’s only inches from mine. She catches her lip and I wait for those three little words.
Nothing.
She straightens her body to ride my shaft again, her hands on her tits, her pussy pulsing around my cock, her hips circling.
I’m nearly there, but I hold it off, think about my exams until she shudders and cries out my name. It tips me over the edge, and I thrust up at her, shooting my load deep and hard. I reach for her hips and hold onto her as I come and come and come. Joder, the sensation is beyond brilliant. I never want it to fucking end.
She falls onto me and the feeling of skin on skin, the beat of her racing heart, the tickle of her silky hair against my chest make me wrap my arms around her and hold her close. My breath escapes in ragged pants, loud in my ears, almost drowning out her voice.
“I love you, Ryan,” she whispers. “I can’t help it. I love you so much.”
I shake my head in disbelief. Have I imagined it?
“I. LOVE. YOU,” she repeats and there can be no doubt as she takes my face in her hands and her eyes burn into mine.
I touch my mouth to hers, “I love you too,” I say. “I love you so fucking much.”
I reach for the throw on the back of the sofa and drape it over us. We’re sandwiched together in a cocoon of warmth.
“You’re a good dancer,” she says, stroking my pecs, “I was impressed.”
“I learnt salsa at a club in Ibiza. Shame we can’t go out dancing one night together, princesa.”
She releases a sigh. “One day, maybe. But, in the meantime, I want you to do something for me. Promise me you’ll focus on your studies. I’m proud of you, don’t get me wrong, except I’ll be even prouder if you get good grades.”
“Yes, teacher,” I grin.
She slaps me playfully on the arm, and we wrestle and roll around on the sofa, kissing and laughing like we don’t have a care in the world. I feel my cock stiffen and I catch her eye. “Ready for round two?” I smirk.
And my heart fucking leaps when she nods.
20
“Please, call me Carys,” Ryan’s mother says, pulling out a seat for me at her kitchen table. It’s the first Saturday afternoon of the Christmas holidays. School only broke up yesterday, and Ryan is at a rugby match. He stopped by last night after his first evening back at work, and we talked for about an hour before making love; he’s been true to his word, he promised, and has worked his socks off for the exams. I marked his Spanish papers this morning, before coming here, and can’t wait to share with him that he’s achieved an A*.
I swallow the lump of nerves in my throat as I sit opposite Carys now. She leans across and pats my hand. “I won’t beat about the bush,” she says, her gaze holding firm. “I was shocked when my son told me about your relationship, but I’ve been watching him ever since and I’m seeing a new side to him, a much more mature Ryan than I’ve seen before.” She smiles, and it’s a smile filled with warmth. “He’s been studying hard, harder than he’s ever done, and he told me it was because he wanted to make you proud of him.”
A conflict of emotions churns in my stomach, a mix of pride and embarrassment. “I hope he did it for himself, too.”
“Oh, yes, I believe so. He has always been self-confident.” She doesn’t break eye contact. “I think school work never figured high on his list of priorities.”
“I sort of realised that. He’s highly intelligent, though, and has so much to offer.”
“Well, I can honestly say you’ve been good for him on that score. But whether
you’re good for him in other respects I’ve yet to decide.” She shakes her head. “I have to admit it’s not what I would’ve chosen for him.”
“No, I suppose not.” I swallow hard, and my cheeks burn.
“You’re at different stages in your lives,” she says dryly. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”
“I can promise you I’ll never, ever hurt him.” I pause. “Not intentionally.”
“Why don’t you come here for lunch on Boxing Day?” A smile lights her face. “There’s a rugby game in the afternoon and we could go and watch Ryan play together. It would be nice to have someone to go with.”
“I’d love that, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiles. And I want to hug her I’m so grateful for her offer.
I spend Christmas Eve at my parents’ place. It’s our family tradition to go to the candlelight carol service in the cathedral, and we set off early to be sure of a seat.
Sophie and Mike meet us there. I haven’t seen them for months, and the sight of my sister’s pregnant belly as she shrugs off her coat triggers a spark of jealousy in my chest. I’m involved with a younger man and I doubt he’ll be ready to start a family for years. The wooden pew feels hard against the back of my thighs as I stare at the stained-glass windows. Why am I torturing myself with these thoughts?
We stand and sing, Oh, come all ye Faithful, at the end of the service, then wish each other Merry Christmas. Soph and Mike return to their place, and I go home with Mama and Daddy.
It’s strange sleeping in my old bedroom. I lie in my bed, staring at the shelves still lined with the books I studied at university… the Lorca plays, Portuguese poetry and European politics, and I’m reminded of how much further into adulthood I am than Ryan. A shiver goes up my spine. I love him, I love him so much; I wish I was with him right now. I pick up my phone from the bedside table, find his name in my contacts, and tap: I miss you.
