He grabbed her by the ankle and lifted up her leg. 'What are these?'
She was still wearing her socks, blue and green ones, embroidered with tiny white sheep. 'I get cold feet,' she pouted.
He tutted and rolled his eyes. 'Dearie me,' he said, and one by one, peeled them off her.
Starting at her perfectly pedicured toes, he laid his lips on her skin and tracked a continuous line all the way up her leg to her stomach, around her navel and back down to her panties. He eased the small, lacy articles from her, and tossed them aside. Straddling her legs, he kissed up her body to her brassiere. With a quick flick of his wrist, it came loose.
'You've done that before,' she said.
He dropped the bra onto the floor. 'Once or twice.'
He played with her breasts, first with his hands and then his mouth, taking them in and sucking and massaging the nipples until they stood erect.
She was breathing softly as he moved over her, finally returning to her mouth. She threw her arms around his neck, running her hand through his hair. While his tongue explored her mouth, his hands were busy trying to remove his shorts. By now, his erection was pushing hard against the material and he was having trouble extricating himself from the garment. He muttered and cursed under his breath.
'Can I give you a hand with that?' she said.
'Please…do.'
Once free he was once again on top of her and her hand tracked down his back, over his waist, down through his hair to his cock. She stroked it with a delicate touch. 'Ooh, yes,' he breathed in her ear. 'That's nice.'
She giggled softly and her stroking became a firmer grip. 'Like this,' she cooed, and with a gasped, 'Oh, yes!' his arousal became more intense. His scrotum contracted as she massaged it and he groaned loudly.
She played with him, stroking the silky softness that covered his hardness until he was ready for her and she, in turn, warm, wet and open, was ready for him. He slid easily into her, filling her comfortably. As he moved in her, she closed her eyes and cleared her mind of everything but the sensation of him. She wrapped her legs around his body crossing them at the ankle to maintain a good hold.
He did not have to work too hard before she felt the quickening that indicated orgasm was imminent. She urged him by lifting her hips and gripping at his buttocks forcing him into her. Understanding her desire, he increased his pressure and speed.
Once more she experienced a sexual frenzy that tore at her senses, her whole body spasmed akin to a seizure. Spurred on by her climaxing muscles gripping at his penis, Nat continued his rhythmic pushing, and less than a minute after her zenith, he too came, ejaculating hard into her.
'Oh, man alive!' he gasped as his whole body lurched and pulsed.
When he was done, he lay down on her breathing hard and fast. He could still feel the aftershocks of her orgasm and enjoyed the extra stimulation. It took a long time for his erection to subside.
He rested his head on her chest, her heartbeat easily audible. She stroked through his hair; a simple action she knew always relaxed him, and he fell into a comfortable torpor.
'Hmmm.' A long, deep sound welled up from his throat.
'What was that?' she asked.
'That,' he said, 'is what contentment sounds like.'
'Are you content?'
In reply, he made the noise again.
She wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek against his head. 'I like this,' she murmured. 'It feels good lying here holding you. You're nice to hold.'
'Thank you very much.'
He caressed her stomach and then ran his fingers along the length of the silver line that spanned her bikini line, stretching almost from hip to hip. He traced the scar's course again and then placed the flat of his hand on her stomach, covering the place where her womb had once been. 'You can't have children can you, Meg?'
She brushed his hair with her lips. 'No, sweetheart, I can't.'
'It's a big scar. Did it hurt...what you had done?'
'For a while,' she said. 'But I'm a fast healer and it was a long time ago. It was...not something I wanted, but I didn't have a choice...'
'It's okay,' he said. You don't need to tell me.'
She resumed stroking his hair, brushing it back from his face. 'I know a child is the one thing in the world you want but I won't be the one able to give you one.'
He sighed. 'It's alright. I came to terms with the fact that I would never be a father a long time ago.'
'It might not have worked out anyway. I'm not exactly a spring chicken, you know. I'm way past my prime and a bit stringy.'
'So am I.'
'You're not stringy, you're in fine shape.'
He pressed his lips to the soft skin of her breast. 'We'll do lots of things together, just the two of us.'
They lay quietly until she said, 'We could always get a cat.'
A large smile broke out over Nat's face and the cast of sadness all but disappeared. 'Over my dead body,' he said, with a chuckle. 'I can't stand the bloody things.' She felt him settle against her, and within a short while, he had drifted into sleep.
She didn't join him. She lay listening to his gentle rhythmic breathing. The rhythm became more irregular, changing to sharp gasps, and he began to twitch and fidget. He was dreaming. His breathing became more laboured, and he mumbled something she couldn't quite catch. It was clear to her he was becoming distressed in his dream. She strengthened her hold and hushed him, offering soft reassurance.
He was in the hallway of the house, looking into the kitchen. It was dark save for a rudimentary glow from the open refrigerator door. He went into the room, walking slowly as his eyes became accustomed to the gloom. He glanced into the fridge as he passed. Every shelf was loaded with bottles of liquor. Some were on their side, their contents dribbling out onto the floor.
Something sharp pricked at his bare feet. The half-light reflected off large pieces of glass on the floor. He recognised them as Joanna's Mackintosh vase, smashed into a hundred pieces.
There was something on the table. The form was familiar, a person, completely covered by a large white sheet; female, he could tell by the shape.
At one end of the fabric, a bright red stain was slowly spreading. He tore his eyes away from the crimson wetness and toward the head end of the form. The hair poking out from under the sheet he recognised at once - salt and pepper coloured with a distinctive silver-white streak. His gut twisted.
Already knowing what he would see, he grabbed a corner of the sheet and threw it back. He recoiled at the sight before him. There she lay – still, white and lifeless. His beloved Megan.
At her groin, the silver line he had traced with both his lips and his fingers lay torn open, and the gash joined at a right angle to its centre by another jagged tear, right up to her navel. The slices formed a ragged 'T'. Blood continued to ooze from the wounds.
He put his hand to his mouth and gagged. He tried to turn and run away, but something held him in place. Sudden warmth enveloped him and he felt his anxiety subsiding, being replaced with calmness.
'You're wasting your time,' a voice issued from the shadow. This too, he knew at once.
'Joanna?'
It was her. Not the blood soaked horror he had witnessed in his nightmares, but as he remembered her in life, even though, now she carried in her right hand a filleting knife with a long, tapered blade, covered in…not blood, but rust.
'She can't give you what you want,' she said.
He wasn't afraid. The comforting warmth had spread through him and his fear vanished. 'She already has,' he said.
With the tip of the knife, Joanna poked at the wound on Megan's body, opening the gash wider until he could see inside. 'She's empty,' she said. 'There will be no child from her.'
'I know,' he said.
Joanna looked at him, her eyes glittering in the dimness. 'Do you love her?'
'Aye, I do.'
'You loved me once.'
'I still do, Joanna. But you're not here, she i
s.'
'That's not my fault.'
'And it's not mine either, I know that now.'
Joanna cocked her head and looked into Megan's still face. 'Do you want her?' she asked.
'Aye…aye, I do.'
'Even though she can't give you a child?'
'Aye.'
'Does she love you? Does she make you happy?'
'Aye, she does. Very.'
Joanna smiled beneficently. 'Then have her...with my blessing.'
She held out her hand to him, but the knife was no longer there. In its place, a long-stemmed, perfect red rose with the most exquisite fragrance. He reached out to take it from her. As he took hold of the stem, a thorn pricked his finger…
With a jerk, he came awake. 'Meg!' he cried, half asleep.
'Shh, it's okay, you're safe, sweetheart. You were dreaming.'
He lay back onto the pillows with a groan, his hands covering his face. 'Are you alright?' she asked gently, removing them.
He nodded and rubbed his eyes.
'Another nightmare?'
'No, it was nothing like before, nothing so awful. In fact, it was just…odd.'
'Do you want to tell me?'
The dream slipped away even as he tried to recall it. 'It's fading now.'
'It was just a dream,' she said. 'They're not real. They can't hurt you.'
He inhaled deeply and blew it out in a long, slow breath. 'I know.'
'My poor love.' She kissed him tenderly. 'Has it gone now?'
He gave her a soft smile. 'Aye,' he said. 'All gone. Everything's alright now.'
Her lips found his again and he took her to him. Without needing any further encouragement, they made love for the second time that night.
They lay together in warm embrace under the duvet, enjoying the closeness and feel of each other. 'Warm enough?'
'Hmm, lovely. I don't want to have to get out of it.'
He ran his lips over Megan's throat and she moaned her own contentment. 'Then don't,' he whispered in her ear, and nibbled at her lobe. 'Stay here.'
'I can't, not all night.'
'Please. I want to see what you look like first thing in the morning.'
She laughed. 'Believe me, sweetheart, you don't.'
'I want to wake up next to you and watch you sleep.' He nuzzled into her neck and put his hand on her breast. She playfully slapped it away.
'No, Nat, I can't. I have to think about Rebecca. If I were still here in the morning, she would be mortified. It wouldn't be fair.'
He rolled onto his back and puffed out his cheeks. 'Selfless as usual.'
'More like self preservation,' she said. She grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch. 'Time I wasn't here,' she said, and threw back the duvet.
They shared a quick shower, and afterwards, Nat, wrapped only in a towel, lay back on the bed sipping from his wineglass and watching Megan dress.
She didn't finish her drink since she had to drive herself home.
'Are you sure you have to go?' he said.
'Yes, it's for the best.'
'Will I see you tomorrow?'
'I have busy schedule but I'm sure I can fit you in,' she ribbed with a smile.
'Just a few minutes will do, if you can spare it.'
'It'll be tough, but I'll see what I can do.'
She touched her lips to his, before passing her tongue over them to taste the sweetness of the wine. Her hand rested on his chest and then, teasing, moved down, stopping just short of the towel.
'You could stay tomorrow night,' he said. 'You could stay all night with a clear conscience. The day after is Saturday. Rebecca won't be here. In fact, you can stay the whole weekend.'
'We'll see,' she said, and kissed him goodbye.
Nat kept a hold on her hand, letting go only when the reach was too far for him to hold on. He lay listening to her descending the stairs, and after a few more seconds heard the back door slam. Less than a minute later, he heard her car start up and drive away. He put out the light and lay back into the bed. It was still warm, and retained just the faintest remnant of his lover's perfume.
Chapter 32
It was gone one o'clock in the morning when Megan arrived home. The cottage was in silent darkness. The full moon cast a pale grey beam through the window and onto the kitchen floor, affording just enough light for her to find her way across the room without bumping into anything. She crept up the stairs, avoiding the squeaky step and waking Rebecca.
In her bed, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Her mind ran wild with thoughts of Nat alone in his bed at the Lodge and wishing she were back there with him, held in his warm, tight embrace.
She gave up trying to sleep and picked her way down to the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. Through the ceiling, she heard Rebecca's 6.30 am alarm go off. She heard her moving about, the quiet creak of the floorboards, the flush of the toilet and a few minutes later Rebecca herself appeared, still in her nightclothes. Immediately the air between the two women crackled with animosity.
Rebecca clattered around, deliberately making more noise than was necessary. She banged her cup and cereal dish down on the table, splashing milk over the edge of the bowl. She put two slices of bread in the toaster and rammed down the switch.
Scraping out a chair, she sat at the table, her eyes firmly on her cereal. She had not said a word. Megan could bear it no longer.
'Rebecca, please, can't we talk?' She met stony silence. 'Rebecca?'
'Talk about you sleeping with that man…again?' said Rebecca with vehemence. 'I don't think so. I am right aren't I? You did sleep with him again?'
'Yes.'
'Then I have nothing to say to you.'
'I think we should.'
'I don't want to talk about it. We've already had this discussion but you don't want to listen to anything I have to say.'
The kettle whistled and Rebecca got up to make tea. Megan waited for her to sit down again. 'Things may have changed, things you need to know about,' she said.
'Oh really?' Rebecca said indifferently.
'Yes. They might affect you.'
'How?' She dug her spoon into her cornflakes.
Megan drew in a breath. 'Nat wants me to move into the Lodge with him,' she said.
Rebecca gaped in astonishment. She could not have been more shocked if Megan had punched her in the mouth. 'You are joking?' she said through her mouthful of cereal.
'No, he asked me yesterday.'
'And, of course, you jumped at the chance.'
'Actually, I said no. Not because I don't want to, but because I knew you wouldn't like it.'
'You thought of me? How generous of you.'
'I didn't have to.'
The toaster popped. Rebecca collected the contents and tossed them onto a plate. 'I bet he didn't give me a second thought, did he? He just wanted you there…on tap.'
'In all fairness he agreed with me that it would be uncomfortable for you if I was there.'
'Did he really?'
Megan could not make sense of her sister's attitude. 'What's the matter with you, Becks? I thought you might be a little bit pleased for me.'
'Why? Because he's using you? He's sussed you out and he's taking advantage of you.'
'He is not! He loves me and he wants me to be with him.'
'There's none so blind as those who will not see, Megan. And he's pulled the wool right over your eyes.' Rebecca stabbed her knife into the jam and spread it roughly on her toast.
'I may have been stupid in the past, but not this time. I know what I'm doing.'
'You haven't got the first bloody clue.' She ripped at the toast with her teeth.
'I didn't have to take you into consideration, Becks. This is between Nat and me. To be honest, it has nothing to do with you. I only turned him down out of courtesy to you.'
'That was very big of you.'
They sat in silence, Rebecca chewing on her toast, and Megan looking at the table. 'There's more to it,' she said.
'Do tell.'
'Nat's selling the Lodge and moving out of Kirkton.'
Rebecca threw her hands in the air in exasperation. 'Well, isn't that just peachy? And exactly when was all this decided?'
'A couple of days ago.'
'And you two were going to run off together and leave me in the lurch?'
'He asked me and I said I'd go with him.'
Rebecca ripped at the toast again. 'Bloody fantastic! This tale just gets better and better.'
'He's was going to tell you, he was just waiting for the right time.'
'Which is going to be when? When he's had enough booze to grow a backbone? On the day the removal men came? The day he handed me my P45?'
'Don't be cruel, Becks. He cares about you too; he wants you to be happy.'
'Bollocks! He doesn't give a flying fuck about me!'
'That's not true and you damn well know it,' Megan retorted.
'Isn't it? Seven years I've worked for him and not one time, not once, has he ever said 'thank you Rebecca' or 'good job Rebecca'. He expects everyone to dance to his tune, but he hasn't got one iota of gratitude. He's the most selfish, miserable, tight fisted bastard I've ever known. You'll find that out soon enough.'
'I can't believe you could be so callous. After all he's done for you.'
'For me! He's done nothing for me!'
'He's kept you in a job that pays your bills.'
'The only reason I'm still there, Megan, is because he doesn't know I'm there. I'm invisible. As far as he's concerned, things happen around him. The house cleans itself and his meals appear as if by magic. He's going to exchange one servant for another and he'll expect you to wait on him hand and foot. And you'll do it, won't you?'
'I've never heard such nonsense from you, Becks. If I didn't know better I'd think you were jealous, that you were carrying a torch for him yourself.'
'Don't be so fucking stupid!' Rebecca's newly inflamed anger reinforced the strength of her malice towards Nat and it began to show its true face. 'Do you want to know the truth, Megan, I hate his guts. I have done for years. If he died tomorrow, I wouldn't shed a single tear. It was a shame his wife died, she was a lovely woman and always nice to me, but him…' She huffed a sound of pure disgust. 'Looking back, it might have been a blessing if he had eaten one of his guns, then I could have been working for someone who actually appreciated me. If you ask me, he's already half way off the rails…going potty…'
Saving Nathaniel Page 24
