If Only
Page 13
I clamber up the comforter and get underneath it, I close my eyes and slide my hand down and inside my pajama bottoms and think of Marty, wish, wish, wishing it was him.
I waken to darkness, complete darkness, and as I come around, I realise there is a body lying, breathing rhythmically beside me. I startle, almost in slow motion, and then try not to panic as I try and recall who the hell I went to bed with last night.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
The body beside me moves and an arm closes around me and pulls me close, “Come and cuddle down, Rach.”
My heart kicks back into action as I recognise Marty’s voice, and my brain catches up reminding me where the hell I am.
“Marty? What are you doing in here?” I whisper, almost with hysteria.
“Ugh,” he rolls onto his back sleepily. “I, umm,” he rubs his eyes, “Once my parents went to bed, I came through to, uh…”
He appears to run out of words.
“To, uh, what?” I can’t help but smile into the darkness feeling grateful he can’t see me.
“To, uh, you know? I don’t know, be with you?” he tries. “I wasn’t going to stay when I saw you were sound asleep, but the floor was freezing, you looked so precious all cuddled down, and without sounding creepy, I just wanted to be with you. Is that weird?”
“No, not at all. I was disappointed when you kissed me goodnight and then left,” I lay my head on his shoulder.
“You wouldn’t think it, but they’re old fashioned. I’ve put them through a lot, I know it’s dumb, but I didn’t want them to know I was in here with you,” he smoothes his hand down my back slowly, resting it at the rim of my pajama bottoms. “It’s not just me, is it?” he asks, stroking my hair.
“What?” I ask, as I’m not sure where he is going with this.
“Us? I mean, I don’t know, Rach. I like you, I really like you. I’ve been thinking about you all week, it’s like you’ve embedded yourself in my brain and won’t let go,” he exhales shakily.
“No, it’s not just you,” I rub my hand across the hair on his bare chest. It feels wonderful, and I can’t help but feel giddy that he is a real man, you know, with a hairy chest.
He turns to face me and pulls me closer, kissing me gently to begin with, then harder until he pulls me on top of him, straddling him. I immediately feel his hardness beneath me, and automatically move back and forth on top of him, I feel the heat start to gather in my chest and my breath as it starts to escape me as we move together for who knows how long. Kissing, touching, cuddling, he feels so good.
He reaches up, inside my pajama top and caresses my breasts, rubbing his thumbs simultaneously, expertly, over my pert nipples, a moan escapes me and that is when he grabs my top and lifts it quickly up and over my head, before suddenly grabbing my nipple in his teeth and sucking hard on it. He switches to the other side and I find myself grinding harder on him. I feel him moan with pleasure as he gets harder still in his shorts, and I throw my head back in ecstasy, arching my back as he puts his hand down my pajama bottoms and finds my sweet spot.
He barely touches me and I literally fall apart. I am putty in his hands, and I feel him twitching beneath me as I ride out the waves. His mouth is on my neck, biting me gently, talking to me with his beautiful mouth, holding me tightly, reassuringly and confidently to him.
As I slowly come back to him, our foreheads meet and he smiles jubilantly at me in the darkened room, my eyes now adjusted, and his well endowed manhood still standing to full attention in between us.
I look down at his cock and he makes it move, which makes me giggle quietly, I look back up at him and feel happier than I have in a long time. Funny what a gifted orgasm can do to you.
I kiss him hard on the mouth, prolonging our bodies being together as one, then, I go south. I haven’t touched him down there yet, but I’m feeling confident and more than anything, I don’t want to stop. I want to taste him.
I feel his sharp in take of breath as I quickly release him from his shorts and in one swift motion, I put him in my mouth, all the way in, then slowly gripping him, all the way back up.
“Wholly shit, I…” he murmurs, but I follow it up, quicker, harder, again, and again, until I taste the first of him.
I’m like a mad woman, I don’t want to stop, until he can take it no more, “Rach…” he tries to stop me, but I push his hands away until he releases, and I catch every, last, drop. I feel his body squirm and I kiss my way back up his chest until he grabs me and rolls me over, kissing me all over my face.
I giggle excitedly, trying not to make too much noise, “Stop!”
“Hmm, Rachel…” he groans, and kisses down my neck again before slumping to my side and resting his head on the pillow right next to my head.
“Hmm,” I cuddle closer to him, happy, sated, and excited for what’s next.
“Wow,” he exhales, out of breath.
“Wow, yourself,” I smile and find his hand to slip mine into.
“Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he says as he turns and kisses my shoulder.
I smile so big I’m surprised it doesn’t light up the room, “Merry Christmas, Smarty Marty,” I kiss the top of his head and feel him smile at my shoulder.
“I think I got lucky this Christmas,” he says quietly without any humour, and loud enough for me to hear.
My heart tugs, “Me too,” I whisper back and squeeze his hand before we fall asleep again, tangled up in each other’s embrace.
Chapter 20
“Rach, you look different this morning,” Simon studies me while scratching his chin thoughtfully as we collect more firewood from the woodshed outside Marty’s parents house.
Yes, they have a shed just to hold wood.
I grin with my back to him, “I don’t know what you mean?” I manage to work the grin off of my face by painfully biting the inside of my cheek, before turning back to him.
He studies me again, “You got laid, didn’t you?”
“What? Piss off, Si!” I throw some more wood into the bucket to take inside.
“You did! Didn’t you? Little miss prim and proper, well, well, well, I never,” he chuckles with his hand on his hip.
“Seriously, Simon. Shut up, you don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I am getting annoyed as well as embarrassed, and he knows it.
“I think you’ll find I do, actually. Bex and I hea…” he starts.
“Shut up! I don’t want to know,” I cover my ears. “Some things are not supposed to be talked about, especially with your best friends boyfriend. Stop being so freaking weird and humph that inside, this conversation is over. Now. Forever.”
I stomp off back in doors before he gets the chance to say anything else. That man should be in the Guinness Book of Records for being the most annoying person on earth.
I hear him come in after me and go through to the other room with the wood.
“Hey, Rach,” Bex acknowledges me as I hang my coat on the coat stand. I startle, as I hadn’t noticed she was sitting there.
I go through the glass doors into the living room to see her sitting on a chair with her leg elevated again.
“Morning,” I smile instantly at her, she’s still pale, but definitely looks more like herself today. I walk over to her and lean down to give her a hug, “Merry Christmas, my best friend with a pegleg.”
“Merry Christmas to you too,” she smiles as I pull away. “I didn’t lose my leg, I broke it,” she adds haughtily.
“I know, I was joking. How are you feeling?” I ask her while looking at her lower leg, which is in plaster up to her knee.
“I’m ok, everything seems to hurt today, but I took some painkillers and they’re starting to kick in. I’m praying they don’t knock me out again, I think I took the non-drowsy ones which aren’t as strong. I can’t believe this is how I am spending Christmas,” she sighs, but then finds a small smile to put back on.
“I know, it’s like a kids party, it isn’t a party un
less there are some tears,” I reply and she frowns at me like I’ve gone mad.
“Eh?”
“You know, like, it wouldn’t be a ski trip without someone getting injured?” I try to make light of it, but I think her sense of humour has gone a-wall.
“Hmm, right…” she shrugs and looks down at her plastered leg.
“Too much too soon?” I crinkle my face at her and it makes her crack a tiny smile again.
“I think so, sorry,” she crinkles her face back at me.
“I’m sorry,” I squeeze her hand.
“Here you go, Bex,” Deb walks through to the living room and hands her some toast with butter and jam, and a glass of orange juice.
“Oh, you really are an angel, Deb. Thank you so much for all of this,” Bex looks gratefully at Deb.
“Not at all, it’s nice to have some company around here. We seem to rattle around in this enormous house just the two of us most of the time,” she looks around as if thinking about it.
“Why do you have such a big house?” Bex asks and I am mortified. “Oh, sorry, that’s really rude of me, isn’t it? I need to mentally inject my filter sometimes,” she adds, realising herself that was a rude question.
Deb laughs, apparently not offended in the slightest, and sits down, so I follow suit.
“It’s ok, it’s a valid question. My parents owned the farm land we live on, I grew up here,” Deb explains. “They were farmers, you see. When Martin and I got married, my father gifted us this portion of land in the hope that we would eventually take over the running of the farm one day. However, Martin was in the building trade, not farming, and actually built this house for us. My father tried endlessly to turn his hand to farming, but it’s just not in Martin’s blood, although he loves living here in the countryside, he’s not into the rest of it. Anyway, we had high hopes of filling this huge house with lots of children, unfortunately that never quite happened. We were very lucky we eventually got Marty, but I just never managed to conceive again. My pregnancy with him was touch and go, so we are just thankful to have him, and now live in hope for some grandchildren one day, but he’s in no rush for all of that. We have often thought about moving, selling up and going to something smaller, but we love it here. It’s always been our home and being a bungalow, we can grown old in it. It’s great for parties, meantime.”
“Wow, Martin built this?” I am truly amazed as it is even more beautiful in the light of day.
“Yes, he is a man of many talents,” she smiles at us. “He was in the building trade for a lot of years, but has a bad back these days and has had to slow down quite a bit. He hates to admit it though. He still owns the business but has guys that manage the day to day for him. His real passion in life is trains, hence why he chooses to drive them sometimes,” she rolls her eyes and it makes me laugh that she evidently doesn’t share his enthusiasm. “He told me he met you all the other day.”
“He did,” Bex replies. “I think I was a bit on the rude side.”
“Oh, well he never said,” Deb looks inquisitively at her. “Why on earth would you think you were rude?”
“Well, over the course of the last week, we have bumped into Marty nearly every day. I, sort of, thought he was following us, or rather, Rachel,” she gestures over to me. “I mean, he’s been everywhere, hasn’t he, Rach?”
I feel embarrassed as for some reason she is making Deb’s son sound like a stalker, even though I know she doesn’t intend that.
“Yes, but only by coincidence,” I shake my head at her in annoyance then turn back to Deb. “We met in a bar the other night and we ended up playing pool with him. The following day, we went to the Reindeer place and he was working behind the counter, helping a friend or something. We then did the train ride the day after that, and he was driving the train with his dad. He saw me and spoke to me, then let me ride up front, it was pretty cool! The day after that you guys went off to Inverness just the two of you,” I point at Bex, “Joel wouldn’t get up in the morning, so I went swimming and he was at the gym in the same resort, so we ate lunch and he asked me to go up the funicular railway with him. And that’s when we met you and Maggie,” I smile remembering the fun afternoon. “We never talked about our occupations or anything, so when we went skiing, I didn’t know he’d be there too… just as he didn’t know we’d be going skiing.”
Deb laughs out loud, “Seriously? This has been your week?”
Bex and I both nod and start laughing too.
“Can you see why I was a bit dubious about it all?” Bex asks curiously.
“Yes, I can now,” she agrees. “I can vouch for him not being a stalker though,” she says as she pats me on the arm.
“Don’t worry, I have no worries about him,” I reassure her and ignore Bex’s side-glance at me.
I can tell she doesn’t trust him, but I don’t get it. I just wish she’d be happy for me, especially after all the crap with Malcolm, then it occurs to me that I haven’t actually told her about all of that yet. I’m not getting into it today, it’s Christmas, but perhaps I’ll talk to her tomorrow.
“Right, let me go and check on the turkey,” Deb says as she stands up. “It’s nine-thirty already. Marty is working on the slopes until eleven or eleven thirty, I don’t recall what he said. I need to go and pick up Maggie, take her to the graveside, then, we should be back here about the same time as Marty. Everything else is ready to go, and Martin Senior will be here if you lot need anything. I think we will do gifts, then eat dinner around three, that gives the turkey time to rest, does that suit you two?”
Bex and I both agree with her.
“Is there anything I can do while you’re gone?” I ask.
“No, I don’t think so. The turkey will need basting around twelve, if I’m not back, will you do that for me?” she replies.
“Of course, I think I can manage that,” I get up and follow her through to the kitchen to make sure I know where things are, just incase.
At about half past eleven, I am finishing off drying my hair and pin it up to the side with a small piece of holly I clipped off of a holly bush I saw outside in the garden. I am careful not to scratch myself with it. I look outside to the driveway as I see something move in my peripheral vision, and see two cars caravanning up the long snowy path. As they park up, I see Joel jump out of one, and Martin Senior hop down out of the other. He must have taken Joel to pick up his car.
It hasn’t snowed all morning, but it sure did snow a lot through the night. I guess all the roads must have been gritted for the skiers, and I wonder how long it will be before Marty gets back.
When I woke up this morning, all I could smell was him. I didn’t hear him leave, so I’ve no idea what time he got up, but it was early. I happily cuddled the pillow he slept on and dozed for a while until I could hear someone in the kitchen, and got up to see who it was. Turns out it was Martin Senior making some coffee, and I learned quickly that he is not a morning person. So I sat by the back window, drinking my coffee, watching the postcard backdrop they have in easy contemplative silence.
I’m so excited for Marty to get back, and I grab my bag to rake out the little gift I got for him at the gift shop. It’s not much, but it’s as good a souvenir as any on short notice. I quickly put on some mascara and pull my glittery top on over my black trousers, and when I look at myself in the mirror, I feel far too dressed up to be staying in. I have nothing else though, I took this for going to the restaurant, so it will just have to do.
Chapter 21
“Oh, Marty, this is far, far too much,” I look at him completely flabbergasted as he looks on at me in delight.
“It is not. I wanted to, and I did,” he turns me around to hook the necklace around my neck.
I turn back to him and hold the sparkling snowflake in my fingers that is now dangling from my neck.
“Marty, I can’t accept this. We’ve only known each other for a few days, I mean…” I search his eyes and feel really uncomfortable.
&
nbsp; I only gave him a silly photograph album for us to fill before we head home to Aberdeen after New Year. He gave me a diamond necklace. It’s ridiculous.
“Look, it’s not as extravagant as you think. I saw it as I passed the jewelry shop the other night on the way to Maggie’s when it started snowing. I had some other shopping to do and was in town. It just felt right,” he shrugs and takes my hand in his. “I was glad you forgave me. Look, it’s Christmas. I want you to have it. It’s just a little something to remember me by. OK?”
It really is too much, but what can I say?
I lean into him and kiss him, again feeling like I’ll never tire of the feeling I get when I’m close to him, “Thank you, Marty. Really, thank you. It’s still too much, but thank you, I really do love it.”
This makes him smile and he runs his hands down over my behind and squeezes it. “You’re welcome, Merry Christmas,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.
We head through to the living room to find Simon, Joel, Deb, Maggie and Martin Senior playing cards, Bex is lying with a blanket over her, sound asleep again.
“The painkillers are making her sleep,” Marty says and squeezes my hand in reassurance. “She got quite a scare yesterday and took a fair tumble. It’s best for her to rest. She’ll be a different person by next week, still in crutches, but she should be feeling more like herself in a few days.”
I can’t help but feel extremely disappointed for her, she is the life and soul of every party, always the first one in and last one out, but these things happen, I suppose.
We go and sit with the rest of them and as they finish their game of Rummy, Simon deals us hands too for the next game.
“Today has been really nice,” I say to nobody in particular.