He gave a short laugh.
“Sometimes it’s better not to know,” she said. “Once you do, there’s no going back.”
Lysander wrapped his fingers around hers. “Wasn’t it you who was trying to persuade me I couldn’t know why Elke did it?”
“You might just swap one sort of blame for another.”
“I know.” He gave her a sad smile. “We hadn’t been married that long. I don’t want to hear she fell out of love with me so quickly, but I still want to go and see my former neighbors. Will you come with me?”
“Of course, but they’re going to be at work, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. I want to speak to Dirk first. I wondered if they’d separated and what Jean-Paul has told me confirmed it. If Dirk won’t talk to me, I’ll try Marcie.” He rubbed Mollie’s palm with his thumb. “About the rest, about us. Are you okay, sweetheart? We didn’t go too fast, push you too hard…make you come too much?”
She mock-frowned. “We didn’t even get to the good bit yet.”
“And what would that be?”
“When I get my toes sucked and…” She gave a heavy sigh.
“And?”
“When I get to watch you and Flint together.”
His throat went dry. “Doing what?”
“Things.”
“What sort of things?”
She groaned. “Don’t make me say.”
“Try.”
Mollie took a deep breath and blew it out. “All those things I’ve seen on gay porn videos. The touching and the feeling and the licking and the kissing and the fucking.”
“Oh Christ. Now look what you’ve done.” He moved her hand onto his crotch. “And I can’t do anything about it until we three are together.” He hauled her to her feet. “Come on.”
“I need to shower and change.”
“You look fine. Well, you look fine in anything and especially fine in nothing.”
He pulled her to the door and she squeezed his fingers. “When you let me fall, don’t do it from a great height, okay? I break really easily.”
His heart lurched. “That’s never going to happen.”
* * * *
Flint rolled his shoulders after the doctor had finished stitching him up. The cut was behind his ear and not bad, as far as he could understand, but he had a horrible headache. Not the continuation of last night that he’d hoped for.
He wasn’t in the mood for the speech therapist but he did his best and the moment he left, Flint curled up on the couch. He wondered if Lysander and Mollie were fucking. Threads of anxiety knotted in his stomach. If he was going to get jealous, this wasn’t going to work. The thing was, he wanted their first time to be together. He wanted to watch Lysander fuck Mollie, wanted Lysander to watch him fuck Mollie, then he wanted them to do it together. His breathing quickened when he remembered the look of horror on Mollie’s face when she’d seen that guy. He never wanted to see fear in her eyes ever again.
Chapter Twenty
Lysander pulled up in the car park of Stewardair and switched off the engine. Mollie had decided to say nothing more about whether he should do this. She’d been through something similar and had ignored the advice she’d been given. There was no point wondering if she should have turned without ringing the doorbell, because her finger had crept out, pushed it and so determined her future. Clocks can’t be turned back.
“Want me to stay in the car?” she asked.
“No. Come with me. Stop me making a fool of myself.”
Mollie followed him into the building, not sure whether she hoped Dirk Steward was there or not. But when Lysander gave his name to the woman on the desk, she picked up her phone.
“Dirk, there’s a couple in reception who’d like a word with you. One of them knows you. Lysander Weldon… Okay… Okay.” She turned to them. “Go through the double doors. He’s in the third office on the right.”
“Thank you,” Lysander said.
He hung onto her hand as they walked through. The door opened before they reached it and when Mollie saw the guy’s face she knew what Lysander suspected was true. Steward was ashen.
“Come in,” he said. “Take a seat.”
Lysander still didn’t let go of Mollie’s hand even when they were seated.
Steward slumped behind his desk. “How did you find out?”
“Something your ex-gardener said.” Lysander’s voice was cold and calm. “I remembered Elke and I had only been to your place a few times but the gardener suggested otherwise.”
“I figured Marcie would tell you. She was…incandescent.”
“How did she find out?” Lysander asked.
“When Elke…died, I went to pieces. I loved her. I’m sorry. I know she was your wife but… Christ.”
“How long had it been going on?” Lysander’s voice had fallen to a whisper.
Steward squirmed. “From about six months after you married.”
Mollie sucked in a breath as Lysander gripped her fingers even harder.
“And the baby?” Lysander asked.
Steward put his head in his hands. “Yours. She’d worked it out. The dates. I was…angry. I should have said I didn’t care whose baby it was, but I was angry. We’d been planning to make a life together and I said things in the heat of the moment that should never have come out of my mouth.” He looked up at Lysander. “I was angry with her and she killed herself. It was my fault. I’m sorrier than I can ever say. We shouldn’t have started the affair but once we had, we couldn’t stop. I know I have no right to say this either but I did love her. Only now I’m left thinking I didn’t love her enough.”
Mollie could hear Lysander breathing unsteadily beside her.
“Then neither of us did,” Lysander said. “Why…? Can you tell me why?”
Mollie hoped Dirk didn’t say something that made this even worse.
“She was lonely. She liked living in Yorkshire, hated London, and you didn’t spend enough time with her here. You were wrapped up in your art. She felt excluded.”
Lysander gave a heavy sigh. “Was Elke happy when she was with you?”
“Yes. Until she wasn’t.”
Lysander pushed to his feet, pulled Mollie to hers, and Steward scrambled to his.
“I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” Steward said. “I thought you were better off not knowing.”
“I thought it was my fault,” Lysander said. “And it was yours.”
The guy turned even whiter.
“No,” Mollie said. “Don’t do that, Lysander.”
Lysander gave an exasperated sigh.
“Apportioning blame isn’t going to help,” she said. “You both bear some responsibility, but Elke did this to herself. Be sad, be sorry, but forgive her, forgive yourselves, and move on.”
Lysander turned to her. “I was thinking about punching him.”
“Well, there you are. I’ve saved you from hurting your hand.” She tugged at his arm. “Let’s go.”
When they got into the car, Lysander didn’t start the engine.
“Do you feel better?” she asked.
“I failed her. Married six months and she has an affair? What does that say about me?”
Mollie pinched his thigh. “What does it say about her?”
“I didn’t know she was lonely. I thought it was the perfect mix. I could enjoy the London art scene and come up to Yorkshire when I needed to escape.”
“She cheated on you.”
“Yeah, well, I cheated on her with Flint, didn’t I?”
“After eight months. And it was with a guy not a woman, I think that makes a difference.”
“Do you?”
“It would have to me.”
Lysander pulled her across the seat into his arms. “But there aren’t many like you. In fact, I think you might be the only lovely Mollie in the entire world.”
She kissed his cheek and shifted back to fasten her seatbelt. “We better go home before Jean-Paul and Aden get back and ca
n’t get in.”
“Home?”
She swallowed hard. “Anywhere I lay my head.”
Lysander leaned to tug her against his chest. “Even here?”
Especially there. “With a rib in my ear?”
He chuckled, let her go and started the car. “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re altogether too perfect. I think we need to make a list of your bad points, otherwise I’m going to conclude you’re an angel in disguise. So go ahead. List your faults.”
He pulled left onto the main road toward Otley.
“Er…um…ah… Well, you know I joked a bit about my cooking? It wasn’t a joke.”
* * * *
Lysander wondered what Mollie had done to him. If he’d sat in Dirk’s office and listened to that a couple of weeks ago, he’d have decked the guy. Now he realized there was no point. Dirk was hurting as much as him. Maybe more in some ways. Lysander felt bad that a little part of him had wanted to hear it was Dirk’s baby.
Mollie was right. This had to stop. Not least of which because something else was starting. He knew Mollie was insecure about them. Christ, so was he. But they could make it work.
As he pulled into the drive, he spotted a guy in a hoodie sitting on the steps, and he smiled. Flint pulled down his hood as they got out of the car.
“Where?” Flint snapped.
Mollie took her hand in his. “You okay? Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes?”
Flint laughed and Lysander marveled at how fast she could flip him around. Mollie checked out the back of Flint’s head and winced. Lysander took a look. Some of his hair had been shaved off and the cut was held together with tape.
“What’s this?” Mollie asked and patted Flint’s back pocket.
He pulled out a toothbrush.
Lysander chuckled. “Come on. Let’s go inside. I’ll get us some lunch and you can tell him what we’ve been doing.”
Mollie pulled Flint to the kitchen. As Lysander made sandwiches, he listened to her explain about Dirk. Did he feel better that Elke wasn’t the unhappy cheated-upon wife he’d thought her to be? Maybe slightly. Enough time had passed that he could be happy she’d found comfort in Dirk’s arms. But it was the waste that still hurt—the waste of time trying to make things work, and of simply ignoring the fact they were broken.
He and Elke had never been right for each other. He looked at Flint and Mollie leaning across the table, face to face, Flint concentrating hard as Mollie talked, and his heart filled with emotion—overfilled so that it flowed into his throat and blocked it. He took a bottle of white wine from the fridge and as he reached for three glasses, Flint came up behind him. He put his arms around Lysander’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder. Lysander could feel Flint’s warm breath hitting his neck and he closed his eyes for a long moment.
“Shall we eat outside?” Mollie asked. “It’s lovely and warm.”
“I’ll find a blanket and we can have a picnic,” Lysander said.
While he was upstairs, he picked up a few other items and pushed them into a small bag. His cock unfurled in his pants as he reached for them.
Mollie and Flint had already taken the food and wine outside and were sitting on the grass. Flint helped him spread the large checkered blanket and the three of them sprawled on it. Flint’s hoodie was the first item of clothing to go. Mollie’s shoes were next, followed by Lysander’s and Flint’s.
“I feel very lazy.” Mollie stretched out her legs and wriggled her toes.
“And safe, I hope,” Lysander said. “There are fences on each side of the house and the door is locked.”
“Did you…think…he find you?” Flint asked.
“I worried. I’d done all I could think of. I could have bought a car but I knew Lewin could trace me through the registration. I changed the SIM card in my phone. I haven’t accessed my emails. I only used my credit card on Amazon. In asking one of my kids to randomly pick a place for me to go, I thought I’d even wiped out the possibility of me choosing somewhere I could have mentioned to Lewin.” She sighed. “He’s a good cop.”
“Bad man,” Flint said.
“I ought to call his brother and tell him what happened.”
“Good man?” Flint asked.
Mollie nodded. “Jock’s a good guy.”
Lysander handed her his phone. “Know his number? Call him now.”
She took the phone and put it on speaker.
“Hello, unknown caller,” Jock said.
“It’s me.”
“Mollie! For fuck’s sake. You’re not dead then or lost at sea or stranded on a desert island?”
“Sorry for just leaving. I couldn’t tell you where I was because I didn’t want Lewin to find out. If he thought you knew, he’d have pushed until you’d given way.”
“I don’t understand. Why did you leave?”
She took a shaky breath. “After we got back from the pub that night, he hit me. Hard. Handcuffed me to the bed.”
“Shit. The bastard.”
“He found me, Jock. Doesn’t matter how, but he turned up here today. Hit me again and hurt a guy who was with me. He drove off with me in his car but I was rescued.”
“Mollie, I—”
“I’m just telling you so you know what happened. I won’t report him but he can’t do this. He needs help. I don’t want him to hit someone else.”
“He loves you.”
Lysander bristled and flashed Flint a glance.
“It’s not love,” she said. “It’s obsession. You don’t hit people you love.”
“No, you don’t. I’ll talk to him. So are you okay?”
“Yep, I’m good. Bye, Jock.”
“Bye, Molls.”
She handed the phone back to Lysander and he tossed it aside.
“Mollie told me something earlier,” he said to Flint. “About what she’d like to happen.”
Mollie took such a large gulp of her wine she started to cough. Flint patted her on the back.
“She’d like her toes sucked,” Lysander said.
“Only when my feet are clean,” she blurted. “They’re not.”
Flint laughed.
Lysander watched her carefully. “She also told me her dirty little secret.”
“Dirty…little…secret,” Flint repeated.
Lysander wrapped his hand around her ankle, sensing she was about to run. “She likes to watch gay porn.”
Flint grabbed her other ankle. “Us, Moll…ee? Watch us?”
“Only if you can do it like porn stars,” she said and Lysander let out a strangled laugh.
Flint’s eyes glittered. “Watch then help. Deal?”
“Okay,” she said.
Lysander’s heart pounded. He wanted to fuck Flint first but would Flint let him? It had always been a battle between them over who topped. Lysander’d had him first but the next time, Flint had fucked him. Flint stripped before Lysander had unbuttoned his shirt. He leaned back on one arm, his hand around his cock. His lean body was beautiful, the grooves in his muscles clearly outlined. Nothing too pumped. Small rounded pecs topped by tight nipples. Gorgeous cock. Lysander’s mouth watered just looking at him.
“He’s slow,” Flint said to Mollie.
“You want it fast, Flint?” Lysander asked. “You want me to shove my dick in your arse and fuck you into the ground?”
Lysander started, alarmed by how easily he’d slid back into the way he and Flint had behaved. Oh God, Mollie. But one glance showed her wide-eyed with excitement.
“Dirty talk too? You’re spoiling me.” She grinned at them.
“Oh, Mollie,” Lysander whispered.
He pulled off his pants and shorts together, tossed them aside and rubbed his cock against Flint’s thigh, sliding it over his hip and on up to his nipple. Flint gave a load groan.
“Tell me how much you want my cock,” Lysander whispered.
“A lot,” Flint muttered. He rolled o
nto his front and pushed up so he was on all fours, staring at Mollie. Lysander moved behind him, wrapped his arms around his hips and gave one long pull on Flint’s cock.
“Arrggh,” Flint moaned.
Lysander leaned up to nip his ear, his neck, his shoulder, and Flint quivered, rocking beneath him, arching back into him, rubbing his butt against Lysander’s dick and groaning. Lysander stared at Mollie as he trailed his tongue down Flint’s spine, curling it around his vertebrae, scraping his chin over his butt before he licked down the crease and spread Flint’s cheeks.
Oh God, I missed this, missed him.
“Mollie, you know how those porn stars keep going for hours?” Lysander said. “You do know that’s faked right?”
“I don’t fake,” Flint said.
Mollie smiled. She nodded agreement at Lysander, then winked and shook her head at Flint.
“They can play all sorts of tricks with the camera,” Lysander said.
She came up on her knees to kiss Flint, brushing her lips over his, then did the same to Lysander. A quick slide of her tongue before she pulled away.
“I’m going to be very disappointed if I get less than twenty-nine minutes,” she said.
Lysander reached for the bag he’d brought down. He tossed the suntan lotion to Mollie and dropped the lube and a condom by his knee. Twenty-nine minutes was not going to happen. Maybe nine, if he was lucky and Flint didn’t move a single muscle. Oh shit, doomed then. He knelt between Flint’s legs, rubbed his cock along the seam of his butt and Flint let out a loud groan. The sound tightened his balls, the feel made them vibrate. He wanted to spit against Flint’s hole but thought of Mollie and hesitated.
“They do more in porn videos.” She looked straight at him, her lips curved in a smile. “I wish I had popcorn.” The little monkey.
Lysander bent to put his face against Flint’s butt, spread his cheeks and spat on his hole. Flint gasped and Mollie gasped louder. Lysander trailed his finger over the wrinkled pucker and at the same time slid his cock back and forth against Flint’s balls. He used the lube before he pushed in with his finger and when he felt how hard Flint was grasping it, every muscle in his body wound tighter. Not even nine seconds.
Talking Trouble Page 24
