by Ian Harwood
My entire bloody body craves to sink into the cushions at that very minute. I want nothing more than to put the TV on, relax and have Juliet curl up beside me.
Christ, I’m getting old. Where’s the desire for hot sex? Where’s the idea of using the couch as an impromptu surface for fucking her brains out?
Yeah, desire and lust are at the base of my body’s craving, but at this minute, I just want some peace. I’ve had a hard day!
The mantelpiece, a console table behind the couches as well as a coffee table were all laden down with odds and ends. Framed photos of Bo and her step mum, of friends and places she’d been. Her father was distinctly lacking from the scene. She had ornaments and small knickknacks on the surface and all in all, she’d prettied it up but not made it too feminine that a man couldn’t relax.
“What do you want, Joe?”
Her first words stirred me from staring at her flat. I wonder if she’d appreciate my honesty, if I said, “You.”
Hiding a grin, because she looked more likely to deck me than embrace me, I shrug. “I want to clear the air. I haven’t done anything wrong, you’re the one that instigated this farce and I don’t want it hanging over my head.”
She wraps her arms about her belly. The position is self-protecting and I find it irritating. She doesn’t need to protect herself from me. I spend half of the time treading on eggshells with her!
“I shouldn’t have done what I did,” she eventually admits, head bowed.
With her back to the fire, the licking flames illuminate her shape and place her face in the shadows. I’d have liked to have seen her features, but her position doesn’t allow for that.
“No. You shouldn’t,” I reply in the smoothest voice I have. Before she could stiffen up, I insert, “But, what’s done is done and I’ll assume you had a reason behind it. However, that doesn’t interest me. You do. And you know that and you know that’s why I’m here.”
Her head jerks up at that. “I know nothing of the sort.”
With a snort, I shake my head. “Pull the other one.”
“Sex. That’s all you want,” she spits in a derogatory tone that puts my back up. The Rustin’s seem to have a patented technique of doing that.
“I’m a man and therefore all I can think of is sex?” I ask and wait for her to glare at me, self-righteousness evident in her every line. “You’re twenty-two, Juliet. You’re younger than I am and the men in your circle are like that. They think with their cocks.”
“And you don’t?” she bursts in with a disbelieving glare.
“I want you,” I murmur softly. “I’ll admit that. But I’m not thinking with my cock. So there’s no need to get all defensive on me. It isn’t necessary. I’m here, because I think we’ve got something together. I don’t want some stupid relationship between your father and his PA to mess that up.”
“How can you call it stupid? They’ve been sleeping together for as long as she’s worked there!”
“It’s none of our business, Juliet. Surely you can see that? Your stepmother is a lovely person, but she’s in cloud cuckoo-land. Men don’t just need sex, they need some attention; some affection. Can you blame your father for looking for that elsewhere?”
“And that’s what you’d do, is it? As soon as the woman you’d vowed yourself to became defective, you’d look elsewhere.”
“Whoa. We’re not talking about me.”
“We might as well be. You’re like my father incarnate. You’re two of a kind.”
“Do I agree with all of your father’s decisions?” I ask, my tone growing harsh. “No. I don’t. I don’t agree with the way he treats you and Bo and how you have to go crawling to the office to get anything you want; or to even communicate with him. Don’t mistake my business acumen with a similar character. We might have it in us to start with nothing and drag our way to the top, but my personal life is a completely different affair to your father’s. Do you understand me?”
Before she could answer, and damn it, I wanted her to, my mobile buzzes. I’d have ignored it, but this is my personal mobile. A number few people have. And the top of that list are my parents. Maybe it’s telling that this is the number Juliet had too.
“I’m sorry. I’ll have to get this call. It could be family.” Before she could say a word, I pull out the mobile and frown at the unknown number. Connecting the call, I bark, “Hello? Who is this?”
“Joe? I got your number from your mum. It’s me. Brook. Please, don’t hang up. I really have to talk to you.”
To say I’m stunned is kind of an understatement. For the first time in eight years, my ex-wife has made contact with me. A part of me wants to yell at her for her shitty timing. Christ, did this conversation have to happen with Juliet standing right in front of me?
“Yeah, it’s me, Joe. Brook, I’m kind of busy right now. Can I call you back later?”
“No!” Brook bursts out. “No. Please don’t put the phone down. I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
With a sigh, I look at Juliet and murmur, “Sorry. I have to take this.”
She frowns at me, but shrugs and takes a seat on one of the huge sofas. I could hardly request privacy, when I’m in her flat, but the idea of holding this conversation in front of her is a bit like being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“I want a divorce, Joe.”
Even though I’d expected that was the reason for the call, it still comes as a shock. In fact, it’s more like a punch to the gut. Even standing as I am, a bridge between one woman who is my past and the other who I hope will be my future, it’s tough to accept.
“You’ve met someone?” I ask for the want of something to say. Silence had thrummed along the line since Brook’s declaration.
“Yeah. He’s like you.”
I frown at that. “What do you mean?”
Brook laughs. The sound more nervous than amused. “I’m pregnant and he wants the baby to have his name.”
“Oh.” Hardly a world-class reply to news that my wife is expecting another man’s baby, but what else is there to say? “Congratulations.” As flat as it sounds, at least I’ve made the effort.
“Thanks. We’ve been separated for so long that I can’t see there being any problem.”
“No. I guess not.”
“Are you okay, Joe? I guess this is out of the blue but not altogether surprising, is it? We both had to meet people someday. Have you found anyone?” she asks on a rush.
“Yeah. I have. I’m with her at the minute actually.”
“Oh. Sorry. I suppose that’s why you wanted to call me back later. But it took me ages to build up the courage to call you. I don’t think I could have stood waiting much longer. I asked your mum for your number two weeks ago. I’ve been dawdling for that long.”
Thank you, mum for the warning. My arms flex with irritation, the muscles rippling at the news my mother could have warned me that a call was on its way.
“Don’t worry about it. She understands.” Clearing my throat, I mutter, “I’ll have my lawyer send you the papers.”
“No. It’s okay. I’ll have mine do it. He’s prepared; I’ve had this on standby for the last month. I’ll contact him tomorrow and he’ll have the papers couriered up to you.”
“Whatever way you want to play it, Brook.” Feeling uneasy and not sure why, I turn away from Juliet’s enquiring glances and stare into the flames. “Are you happy? Does he make you happy?”
“Yeah. He does, Joe. Thanks for asking. I hope she, whoever she is, makes you feel the same way. I’m glad we can be adult about this.”
“We’re being more adult about the divorce than we were about the marriage! Christ, what’s it been? Eight years since we last spoke?”
“About that,” she confirms. “It’s time to say goodbye to the past, I guess. Strange. I think we both used the marriage certificate as a form of protection. I think we both were burned badly by what happened and didn’t want it happening again. I’m sorry if that puts you i
n an uncomfortable position with your latest toty.”
Unable to help it, I turn around again and face Juliet. Catching her eyes, I hold them as I tell Brook, “She isn’t a toty. I guess if you hadn’t called me, I’d have been calling you soon. She’s marriage material.”
“That’s a pretty big declaration to make. Especially if she’s right there in front of you! Are congratulations in order for you too?”
“No. She’s a stubborn mare.” My lips twitch as the shock on Juliet’s face mutes down into outrage. “She also doesn’t appreciate my talking to you about her.” With a sigh, I return my attention to Brook. “Have a nice life, Brook. I’m happy for you. And I hope you stay healthy through this pregnancy. Send me word through mum if everything goes well.”
Sounding quite teary, she murmurs, “Thanks, Joe. I will. I always knew you were a gentleman. Even at fifteen. Bye.”
As she disconnects the call, I slowly lower my hand and lock the keypad before shoving the mobile into my pocket. Without waiting for an invitation, I sink down into the sofa and aren’t surprised as the cushions welcome me into their embrace. For a moment, we say nothing. The only sound filling the room is the noise from the licking, flames that heat the room to just the right temperature.
“That was your ex?”
I nod.
“She wants a divorce?”
Another nod.
“Why do you look shell-shocked? Dad said you were married young and that you split up a few months after you were wed.”
“It’s a shock, that’s all. The past… time… it’s all just slipped through my fingers. I last spoke to her eight years ago, but the last time I saw her was at my son’s funeral.”
“Your son?” Juliet’s voice is a squeak. The couch groans and grunts as she fights free from the cushions and makes her way over to me. She kneels before me, staring up at me with concerned eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d had a son.”
Shaking my head, I confess, “I didn’t really. He died before he’d had a chance to live. That’s why I wished Brook well. She miscarried and with it, we lost all reason to be together. Sad, really. But I refused to be like the other kids on the estate. Getting some girl pregnant and dumping them, or letting the council house us in a flat. That’s why I started working for your dad. I didn’t have any qualifications; flunked my GCSEs. But I had to work to pay for my family. When that family disappeared, I fought for more.”
“You did more than fight. You’re my father’s right hand man.”
“The other night at the party, you made that sound like a dirty thing. Isn’t it anymore?”
“I was wrong to do that. I’m sorry.”
I could have teased her for apologizing; something she rarely did but I don’t. I just shrug. “Thanks.”
“You’re really shook up by all this, aren’t you?” There’s wonder in her voice. A soft glow that doesn’t come from the fire seems to illuminate her from within. “Everyone always says that you’re like the ice man. No one touches you.” She licks her lips and my eyes are caught by the innocent gesture. “I followed your career, you know. Always made sure to ask dad questions about you. And I’m friends with some of the PAs and I always knew when you had a girlfriend and who it was. Although more often than not, you were in the papers with them.” She grimaces at that. “But this has affected you, hasn’t it?”
To say I’m taken aback is a bit like saying jumping off a cliff is a piece of cake. She’s really taken with the idea that I’m hurt. Frowning at the thought, I murmur, “Of course, it has. I loved Brook. I didn’t want to separate. But when she lost the baby, she wouldn’t talk to me and we just fell apart. The time in between has just rushed by. I don’t know where the years have gone.”
“Do you still love her?”
A part of me enjoys the bite of jealousy in her tone, but I chide myself for it. I’m a twenty-first century male; I shouldn’t like being considered a possession. But who am I to kid? If I saw her flirting with any pimple-nosed boy from her class, I’d be the same.
Out of nowhere, a full blown emotional entanglement has appeared. Little by little, the pair of us are gradually being ensnared by it. For me, that’s a good thing. It feels right. Good. Pure. I haven’t felt the like since Brook. Everything in between has been fodder. Ways to burn up sexual frustration; ways to free myself from the tensions of work. This is real and I want it more than I ever wanted things to work out with Brook.
“Did you mean it, when you said I wasn’t your toty? Which is quite derogatory by the way!”
I grin at her, my lips twitching at her outrage. “I didn’t select the word. Brook, a fellow sister of the female sex, did.” Growing more serious, I shrug. “Of course, I did. I thought you’d have realized that by now.”
“How could I, when you were always picking on me?” she grouches, lips pouting.
Unable to help myself, I sit forwards and press a finger to the curve of her mouth. I feel the tell-tale tremor as she quivers and replaces the finger with my own lips. At first, I just rest my mouth against hers. No pressure, no force. Slowly, she moves. Her neck arches to urge her closer against me. In turn, her back curves and her breasts rubs against my knees. She moves her lips, angling them to better kiss me.
Within seconds, a peck on the lips has conflagrated into a full scale kiss. Fire, hotter than anything burning in the grate, rages through my system as her hands move to my shoulders and her nails bite into the muscled flesh there. Her need for me is as great as mine for her and that we’ve met on a mutual playing field increases my desire like nothing else could.
She wants me.
I want her.
The equation is simple.
My brain is muddled with lust as my mouth melts into hers. My hands drop down to cup her breasts; my fingers tweak her nipples before they begin to urge the fabric up until naked flesh brushes against naked flesh. Her breath comes faster, her tits ripple with the movement and then, a soft voice echoes through my head.
Her vows to be different than Bo.
Her vows to remain chaste, celibate before she makes a final commitment to a man.
With a low groan that seems to encompass my need, my frustration and my self-directed anger for being honourable when I was so frigging close to what I wanted, I drag myself away and plunge back into the cushions.
My heart runs ragged in my chest and at the sight of her bare breasts, the quivering nipples, taut and firm from my touch, the flushed skin of her face and throat from her arousal… arousal that I’ve caused, created, I want to scream.
Her eyes are soft with need but slowly hardening with confusion.
“Why did you stop?” she asks. The words are all the more harsh in comparison to the soft sighs and moans that escaped her throat just a few moments ago.
“Because of what you said to me at the party. You’re not a toty, Juliet. I won’t treat you that way.”
Instantly, her bristles disappear and she melts. Literally. Her spine, which had been ramrod straight, curls over and she presses her face against my thighs. Not close to the danger zone, but too close for my sanity. Before I could move her away, she lifts her head and whispers, “Can I trust you, Joe?”
My Adam’s apple bobs at the question. “If you couldn’t, we’d still be kissing.”
She smiles. It’s just a twitch of her lips, but it’s all she seems capable of. Christ, it’s all I’m capable of!
“Come to bed with me?”
Her soft question has my heart rate surging. “I don’t… I want to, Juliet. But, I’m just a man.”
“No. You’re not, Joe. You’re special, like my dad has always said.” She purses her lips. “My vow still stands, but I want your arms around me tonight. Will you be there for me?”
When she put it like that, how could I say no?
Chapter Four
For a man who hadn’t had sex the night before, I was surprisingly chipper upon awakening. But even though the lower half of my body had gone numb, it was almost blis
sful being curled about Juliet.
My lower extremities were numb for obvious reasons; I’d had a hard-on for almost the entire night and the only way of keeping Juliet in the dark about that was to arch my spine and jut my arse out.
Christ Almighty, I’ve never gone to so much effort to hide my arousal from a woman! Ordinarily that’s the whole reason for me being in a strange bed; but not last night.
Not making a pass had been difficult. Every nerve ending in my body, every hormone within my bloodstream had been urging me on, even after Brook’s out-of-the-blue call. But Juliet had cuddled up to me so trustingly, so innocently, that I couldn’t betray those gentler emotions.
I’d never really believed that I had a soft side. Juliet brings out the strangest tendencies in me; one of them, a smile as I walk into the office even though, in the scheme of things, last night was pretty much a sleep over with hopes of things to come.
But maybe I’m changing; I know I am. A few years ago, coke addict and slut that she is, I’d have kept Sandra on. She was a gorgeous girl, hotter than anyone I have had in bed and while she was using me for who I am and what I earn, she was easy to control and divert away from her original intentions.
That sounds cold, but that’s me.
I’m no virgin and I can’t and don’t expect that from my bed partners. My recent fastidiousness is a new development. The side Juliet brings out is new and disconcerting. I’ll grow accustomed to it, but it’ll take time.
I’m so damned cheerful as I walk through the grand atrium, head towards the lift and soar forty floors upwards that I’m on the cusp of whistling. I only manage to contain it by the skin of my teeth. The lift is packed as usual and my bursting into song would do more than raise a few eyebrows. I’ve grown rather a reputation during my career here. I’d believed in that reputation and that’s why reconciling myself with this other side to my nature is bound to be difficult.
As soon as I pass through the outer office and into my own, I see the blue envelope on my desk. Intrigued, I pick it up as soon as I’ve dumped my briefcase and tear into it. Spotting a ticket to Milan’s Malpensa Airport and a departure’s date of Tuesday morning, a mere four days from now, I grin.
