by Helen Lowrie
I laughed. ‘I’m sure Mrs Plumley knew she’d have you to answer to if she did.’ Angling the shower head I rinsed her silky tresses clean again.
Kat tipped her face up, her eyes closed. ‘Yeah, she knew all right.’
With a cloth I gently soaped every inch of Kat’s lovely lean body, fighting hard not to react as her skin flushed, her nipples puckered and her breathing quickened beneath my fingers. Once she was clean she quietly and methodically washed me in return, her eyes dark and thoughtful. I trembled with the strain of my own need for her, under her touch and her powerfully heated gaze, but I was determined not to make a move unless she asked me to.
At last I switched off the water and wrapped Kat up in a large towel before securing a smaller one around my waist. She remained mute and, as I carefully rub-dried her hair, I was conscious that I had lived thirty years without ever caring for another human being in this ordinary but, for me, intensely intimate way.
Taking her by the hand, I led Kat back into the bedroom. ‘So, what do you want to wear?’ I said.
Without replying she reached up and kissed me, her soft lips infusing me with intense gratitude and relief, whether it was hers or mine I couldn’t be sure. Consumed with hunger I deepened the kiss, relishing her unique taste and aroma and pulling her body close into mine.
But seeing Kat walk away from me had shaken me more than I wanted to admit and, while I understood that it was the feelings between us that frightened her, rather than me personally, I couldn’t risk giving her any excuse to leave me again. With great effort I dragged my mouth away from hers, took a step backwards and sat down on the bed. She needed time and space and I absolutely would not rush her for my own selfish reasons. ‘Sorry,’ I muttered.
Kat moved closer, cautiously, calmly taking control, loosening the towel at my waist and spreading it open to reveal the erection that mocked me. Without a word she hitched her own towel up to her waist and climbed onto my lap, straddling me. In such close proximity the delicate fragrance of her skin was intoxicating. Locking her big beautiful eyes on mine, she sank down, painstakingly, deliciously, slowly, drawing me deep inside her. We groaned in unison, luxuriating in the phenomenal sensation of our bodies combined. Being here inside Kat, being connected to her in the most profound and carnal of ways, I’d never felt so safe, so sound, so complete – it almost made me cry. As I rolled my hips she moaned.
‘Oh, Jamie.’
The way she said my name gave me goosebumps. A small smile played across her face as she eased herself slowly up on her knees and then down again onto my length, clenching her muscles and delighting in the sheer pleasure she was conducting.
As she rode me I gripped the bed tightly with my fists: to refrain from ripping her towel away, to prevent myself from touching her, to stop myself from coming at once. I watched, hypnotised, marvelling again at her inner strength and beauty, as she tentatively experimented, adjusting the angle of her hips, the pressure, and the pace. I reminded myself that Kat had experienced little control in her life or over her life – indeed hardly any control over anything at all – and it felt good to be giving her some of that power back. As her muscles tightened, her rhythm increased and she raced to claim her orgasm, a tell-tale pink flush creeping up her neck to her face, while I fought harder to hold back my own.
When I could take no more, I grabbed her hips and confessed. ‘Ah, Kat, I need you so much.’
‘You’re mine,’ she said. We detonated together and I came hard and deep inside her, biting out her name.
Chapter Forty-nine
I hummed cheerfully to myself as I watered the herbaceous perennials, starting at the acanthus and working my way through the neat rows of pots towards the zantedeschias. There were no customers nearby to be disturbed by my singing and I was enjoying the steady routine of the task. Ever since Jamie had brought me back from the Rose and Crown just over a fortnight ago, I felt different – lighter somehow, as if I hadn’t been breathing properly before and now it was easier. Last night he had made gentle love to me, late into the night, and I’d drifted to sleep in his arms in a pure state of what I can only describe as bliss. The knowledge that Jamie loved me seemed to change, brighten, everything. I still had bad days – mornings when I woke from nightmares with Vic’s voice in my ear and my skin crawling with cold dread. On those days I depended on Jamie’s patient reassurance and all my courage in order to leave the house. But Southwood’s, with its green places, relaxed pace, and kind faces was a wonderful antidote to anxiety and was starting to feel like home – a comforting, if alien, concept.
I wasn’t naive – I was aware that this precious new life could be snatched from me at any moment but right now I refused to give that fear any power over me – I was sick of the old, frightened me. This new person, hopelessly in love and loved in return, was far, far better company.
In an effort to strengthen my wrist, I swapped the water gun into my left hand, clumsily spraying myself with icy cold water in the process. It was late August and the temperature was edging up to a predicted high of 30⁰C so the shock of the cold was a welcome one but it still made me gasp. A muffled laugh caught my attention and I turned to find the five builders who were working on the coffee shop extension sat watching me from the shade of the fence.
‘Cold is it?’ one of the men asked, eliciting a snigger from his colleague.
The guy who’d spoken – I couldn’t recall his name – was about my age with short, curly hair and sparkly blue eyes. It was clear what he was referring to from the way all five men were trying not to look at my chest and I rolled my eyes. ‘Shouldn’t you be working?’
‘Tea break,’ blue-eyes said, grinning and holding up his mug in illustration.
I’d chatted to the builders several times over the last few weeks – mainly because I was excited about the new coffee shop and liked hearing about their progress. Several of my cafe regulars had been construction workers, of one sort or another, so I was familiar with the cheeky, occasionally lewd, banter common among them. These guys were nice enough, ranging in age from eighteen up to forty-something and blue-eyes was a good friend of Liam’s, which helped put me at ease. They generally worked hard, putting in long hours while the weather was fine and on the odd rainy day I had taken over a pot of hot, freshly brewed coffee and a packet of biscuits to keep their spirits up. Now that the roof was on, the glazing was in and the extension was watertight, rain was no longer an issue. Today they had all stripped off their shirts and, though they still wore fluorescent hi-vis safety vests, the tanned, bulging muscles of their arms were on display, all streaked with sweat, dust and grime. ‘How’s it all going?’ I said.
‘Getting there. First fix was completed last week and this one,’ blue-eyes elbowed his co-worker, ‘is busy wiring-in all the kitchen equipment.’
‘You haven’t electrocuted yourself yet then?’ I said to the electrician.
‘Not yet,’ he said, hiding his smile behind a cup of tea.
‘We should be able to start on the tiling soon,’ blue-eyes added, reclaiming my attention, ‘but we’re still waiting for the big freezer cabinet to arrive.’
‘So that you can take turns lying inside it, I suppose,’ I said, wiping my forearm across my sweaty brow.
The men laughed. ‘Yeah, it’s all right for you,’ blue-eyes said, ‘swanning about out here in the fresh air, dousing things with water, but it’s bloody boiling in there.’
‘I’ll douse you then, shall I?’ Swinging the hose around, I aimed the gun and sprayed water at their feet. All five men yelped and leapt up, several of them spilling tea and laughing as they made for the other side of the fence. But blue-eyes stood his ground, chuckling, and I raised the water gun, aiming at his chest and narrowing my eyes in warning.
‘Kat? Everything OK?’ The perfect rumble of Jamie’s voice almost made me shiver with pleasure as he strolled towards me.
Lowering the hose I turned towards him, like a plant leaning towards the sun. ‘Yes, boss
, everything’s fine.
The builders have just been filling me in on their progress.’
Jamie glanced over at blue-eyes with an eyebrow raised in question and the builder nodded in confirmation. ‘All going smoothly.’
‘Great,’ Jamie said, turning back to me. ‘Kat, can I talk to you?’
‘Yes, sure.’ In my peripheral vision I registered the builder sidling back to the building site. ‘What is it?’
‘Shall we go back to the office?’
Immediately I worried that something was wrong, even though Jamie looked perfectly relaxed. ‘OK,’ I said, reaching to turn the water off at the tap.
We didn’t attempt conversation as we made our way through the garden centre, though I could swear static crackled in the space between us. The shop was busy with customers and cluttered with trolleys and the recycling bins by the door were full to overflowing. Jamie stopped to clear some space and empty the bins, while I re-lined them with fresh plastic sacks. One of the escaped items Jamie retrieved from the ground was an empty vodka bottle and I shivered reflexively as I recognised Vic’s favourite brand. Would he ever get out of my head? Would there ever come a day when I could look at bulldog tattoos, denim jackets and Embassy cigarette packets without automatically feeling nauseated? My stomach turned as I wondered if the police had ever identified the brand of cigarette which had started the potting-shed fire. I would have to try and find out somehow without worrying Jamie.
Before we could leave the shop floor Jamie was intercepted by various customers and members of staff requiring his attention. Curbing my impatience, I lifted plants out of customer trolleys, making it easier for the till staff to scan the labels, while admiring Jamie in action. He politely dealt with each query with gentle proficiency, as if he was in no hurry and had been running the business for ever.
At last we entered his office and Jamie abruptly grabbed hold of me, kissing me and pinning me to the back of the door. His kiss was as welcome and intoxicating as ever, suffusing me with desire, but there was a desperate edge to it that had me concerned. With some regret I pushed him away from me so that I could speak.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘It’s nothing, not really. It’s just – it’s hard to explain.’
‘Try.’
He took a deep breath, while I held mine. ‘You make me feel amazing; stronger; braver; like I could do anything at all and yet there are these moments when I look at you and I feel the exact opposite – as helpless and needy as a child – terrified that I might lose you.’
‘Oh, Jamie,’ I whispered.
‘In those moments the need to be with you; inside you; to feel you wrapped around me, is so intense that I can hardly breathe. Seeing you with those men –’
‘The builders? We were just messing about.’
‘I know, god, I know,’ he said squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against mine.
‘You were jealous?’
He groaned. ‘I know it’s stupid.’
‘I think I understand.’
He opened his eyes and I willingly lost myself in their deep, warm, brown depths. ‘I hate how other women look at you sometimes; soaking up your smiles, lapping up your words and drinking in the sound of your voice, as if they have a right to those things. I know it’s irrational but that’s how I feel. And sometimes I want to tear my own eyes out, I want you so badly.’
He drew back. ‘Please don’t.’
‘I’ll try not to.’
He was silent for a moment. ‘Is that just how it is then,
between you and me?’
‘I think it’s going to take time to really trust in what we have – in love – to really believe in it and let our fears fade.’
‘Time.’
‘Yes.’
He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘OK.’
I planted a kiss on him. ‘So, are you going to let me get back to work, boss?’
‘It sounds so disrespectful when you call me boss,’ he muttered against my lips.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said.
‘Yes you do. If there’s ever a staff revolt, I’ll know who started it.’
I laughed and he released me, giving me a final kiss before opening the door.
Chapter Fifty
As Liam moved to take up his place in the scrum his gaze met mine. Breathing hard through his mouthguard and smeared in mud, he looked as knackered as I felt but his eyes were full of the satisfaction we both shared. September had arrived, kicking off rugby season and the promise of matches galore. Which was just as well since the heady days of summer seemed at an end, following two days of almost continuous rainfall. Today the wet weather was holding off but we were a man short because Lester had injured his leg and was unable to play. Despite this, with just three minutes of play remaining, and barring a catastrophe, we were going to win the match. It was only a friendly game against the neighbouring town, to raise money for a local charity, but it was my first match since joining the team back in June and it made for a great start to the season ahead.
As the referee said ‘crouch’, I took up my position, my boots firmly planted but leg muscles primed to take flight. I kept my eyes forward but I was aware of the people around me, like Adam over to my right bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. Beyond him on the sidelines, Kat – a force of nature in her own right – had her arms raised, head high and hair streaming as she cheered us on. Throughout the match, much to everybody’s amusement, she’d clapped, shouted and led the home crowd in singing various chants that she’d found on the Internet. But her unrestrained excitement was infectious – spurring my friends and me on to victory and ramping up the entertainment level for the spectators, regardless of which side they were on. Her enthusiastic support had surprised me at first and yet it was pure Kat – my wild Kat – always fighting my corner with unconditional spirit. Most of my life I’d walked around – half-man, half-zombie – with an emptiness inside me, a hollow space in my chest where love should be. For years I’d masked it with confidence and smiles, relying on other people’s pleasure to shore up my own and feeling like a fraud. But now, with Kat in my heart, I felt human, whole, a complete person at last. My love burned fiercely through my veins more potent than adrenalin. I’d never experienced happiness like it.
But the match wasn’t over yet. As the ref called ‘bind’ I took a deep, calming breath, returning my head to the game and eyeing my opposite number. With the word ‘set’ the two packs locked together with a grunt and Will, our scrum half, fed in the ball. Before long our forwards had pushed the other pack back and taken possession of the ball. As it was passed swiftly towards me I darted into position, my peripheral vision trained on the inbound tide of opposition, but as the ball slipped neatly into my waiting hands I was tackled to the ground and the end whistle was blown. We’d done it; we’d won the match – eighteen points to fifteen. Elated I shrugged out of the opposition’s grasp, staggered to my feet and kicked the ball high into the sky above the pitch, while Adam punched the air and the crowd erupted in applause. My teammates and I grinned tiredly at each other while the losing side stood hands on hips, breathing hard, but gracious in their defeat. As if drawn by magnetic force I turned just in time to catch Kat as she propelled herself up into my arms.
‘Kat, I’m all muddy!’
‘I like you muddy,’ she growled. I laughed, staggering slightly as she kissed me, her long legs wrapped tight around my waist, her beautiful butt cradled in my hands in place of the ball.
‘Get a room you two,’ Liam said, slapping me on the back while someone else wolf whistled.
‘Easy, Kat,’ I mumbled against her mouth. As she relaxed her legs with a sigh I set her back on her feet. She now had mud streaked across her skirt but she didn’t seem to care.
‘I’m so proud of you,’ she breathed. I wiped a tear from her cheek with my thumb and kissed her again, unable to resist the sweet taste of her lips.
‘It was just for fun,’ I said.
‘Yeah, I know, but when you scored that try I felt like I was right there with you – my heart nearly exploded out of my chest; you were so fast. I’ve never seen anything so sexy.’ I laughed but her enthusiasm pleased me more than I would admit.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.’
‘I did, thank you.’ Around us the pitch was emptying as players dispersed and headed for the changing rooms. ‘You’d better go get showered and changed,’ she said, taking a step back.
‘In a minute,’ I said, placing my hands on her hips to prevent her escape. She frowned slightly in question but then her eyes dropped down to the obvious swell of my shorts before returning to mine with a knowing smirk. ‘You’re a menace, Kat.’
She laughed. ‘You sure you’re not just really happy to have won?’
‘I don’t like rugby that much. This is all your fault and now you’re going to have to shield me from all the innocent men, women and children over there until I’ve calmed down.’ She laughed again, stepping closer. ‘Don’t, Kat,’ I warned, raising my chin so that she couldn’t kiss me again.
‘I want you so bad,’ she said, huskily.
‘Kat! I’m serious, cut it out or we’re never gonna get out of here.’
Chapter Fifty-one
While the other players drifted back towards the changing rooms I helped Jamie collect up the red plastic cones marking the side of the pitch. But the sight of him in his shorts, combined with the scent of mud, sweat and cut grass, did nothing to subdue the steady ache of desire inside me. By the time Jamie had spoken to several friends and fans and we’d finally reached the clubhouse the other team had gone and the Warriors were leaving for the pub.
‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ he said, pecking me on the lips before ducking into the changing room out of sight. I stood with my back to the wall by the door, light-headed with thoughts of my nearby naked male. Two more players departed with nods goodbye and I bit my lip. Was that the last of them? Was Jamie alone now? Quietly I pushed open the door and poked my head inside. A masculine aroma of sweat and body wash, suspended in clouds of steam, billowed around me and I could hear a shower running in a cubicle at the back of the room. Scanning the benches that lined the walls I was reassured to discover only one gym bag with one set of clothes hanging from the peg above. Recognising them as Jamie’s I boldly moved into the room, letting the door swing shut behind me. I was lifting his shirt to my nose and deeply inhaling my favourite scent when the water was abruptly turned off and bare footsteps rounded the corner. Suddenly unsure, I held my breath but released it again when Jamie appeared naked and dripping before me.
