Sebastian - Secrets

by Janey Rosen

  Will overlook your previous message Elizabeth. How are you? S

  Will overlook my previous message? Such arrogance; this is a man who’s evidently used to getting his own way. I reply to his text message, forgetting Ruth who is eying me inquisitively.

  Sebastian, which part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand? B

  ‘B’ I simply signed myself as he does, without affection and laying bare my animosity toward him and his unwanted attention.

  “Was that him?” asks Ruth, eyebrow cocked.

  “Yes,” I reply. “But I’ve made it very clear to him that it’s over, I really don’t need the hassle Ruth.” I sound so sure and yet, deep inside me I long to be in his arms right at this moment. Dangerous thoughts. He replies swiftly.

  Clearly you’re upset. Meet me - we need to talk. I can help you, don’t push me away. S

  This floors me. He doesn’t now ‘fit’ into the egotistical and insensible pigeonhole in which I’ve placed him. He wants to help me.

  “He wants to meet me, Ruth.” I hand my phone to her and she glances over the thread of text messages.

  “Be careful Beth. Men can be very manipulative and even more so when they spot vulnerability in a woman,” she warns. “I know you well Beth, you will go to him and cry on his shoulder. Then he’ll have you in bed faster than you can say ‘easy lay,’ trust me.”

  I look incredulously at Ruth and we laugh together, a cathartic belly laugh that has us both in tears.

  Shutting my office door I relish the tranquility. I catch up on work pending and soon clear the pile of waiting documents and junk mail. My thoughts then turn to Sebastian as I remember that I haven’t replied to his message. I pick up my phone and compose a message to him.

  Hi, I’m sorry if I was abrupt and thanks for your offer to help, I appreciate it. I don’t think meeting is a good idea though x

  As I wait for Sebastian to answer my message, I fire up my computer and check emails. There’s one from Mike and it doesn’t make me feel any better.

  From: Mike Breeze

  To: Beth Dove

  Sent: Monday 26 November 2012 10:33

  Subject: Your Hubby

  Beth

  Alan’s staying with me for a bit. You’ve really hurt him, which I asked you not to do. It’s not good seeing my mate so cut up. Anyway, he wants me to let you know he’s seeing a lawyer this pm and suggests you find one too. He’s talking about divorce. Get your shit together!

  Mike

  I feel numb and confused as to why Alan is involving Mike, but understanding that he probably feels that Mike will be able to make me come to my senses. Also we’re similar, Alan and I. We both have only a handful of friends, only one whom we can call a best friend in fact, and Mike is Alan’s closest friend. I decide not to reply. Let Alan appoint a lawyer, our marriage is doomed. My mood deteriorates further but is lifted by Sebastian’s next message.

  That’s better Elizabeth! Why won’t you meet me, what are you afraid of? S

  I’m afraid of so many things but most especially I’m afraid of myself, and my lack of self-control. I know very well what will happen if we’re alone together.

  You! You have a power over me Sebastian and ending up in bed with you is only going to complicate things x

  The message is sent, and I sit back in my chair and pick up the book I had been reading before all this trouble arose. I feel sure reading will take my mind off things but am immediately disturbed by my phone’s bleep.

  That’s a great shame Elizabeth as I’ve gone to the considerable trouble of coming to take you to lunch. I’m parked in The Crescent. See you in 10.

  He’s here? Oh my God, is he a bloody stalker? I’m furious … no, that’s an understatement - I’m absolutely livid. How dare he presume. I’ve said ‘no’ to this man and yet he has the audacity to drive three, four hours to… what… take me to lunch?

  Snatching my coat and scarf from the hook, I march out of my office without a word to Ruth who watches me leave with a puzzled expression. Damn him for this. Bloody sodding men! I seethe.

  The rain of late morning is turning to sleet and I pull my scarf up to shield my chin from the biting cold. It’s a short walk to The Crescent at the quick pace I maintain. I turn left into the street and look warily for his car whilst also watching for Alan’s car in case he’s spying on me again – I’m becoming paranoid.

  I see the now familiar Range Rover parked behind a blue van and, as I approach, I see Sebastian who’s talking on his mobile phone. As I approach his car he reaches across and opens the passenger door for me. I slide onto the warm leather seat - he has thoughtfully switched the seat warmer on in readiness for me.

  “Yes, yes, Sunday night, fine… yes ready at ten, see you then.” He ends his call and turns to face me. I am ready to tear a strip off this arrogant man.

  “What the hell are you doing turning up here, thinking I’ll drop everything and have lunch with…” Before I can complete my sentence he kisses me. It is a long hard kiss that I fight for all of five seconds, and then respond to with a hunger and carnal passion that surprises us both.

  His right hand strokes my neck and his left hand is travelling up my thigh and I want this man; need this man. The more that I tell myself this is wrong, the more I want him. His tongue finds mine and explores my mouth, his teeth catching my lip in his passion.

  His fingers are pressing into my panties now as he rubs my sex through my thin underwear, all thoughts of admonishing him now gone. His touch feels so good. Abruptly he ends the kiss, pulls back his hand and rests back into his seat, his eyes are fixed on mine and he looks so serious.

  “Mmm, delicious thank you,” he purrs. “So what happened to the Elizabeth who didn’t want to see me?” he raises his eyebrow and curls his lip in a mocking smile and I just can’t remain angry with this man.

  “You’re insufferable, De Montfort,” I complain.

  “I aim to please Mrs. Dove,” he smirks. “Put your seat belt on Elizabeth, I’m taking you for that lunch I promised you.” I click my seatbelt into place and he pulls out into the traffic and soon we are joining the ring road out of town.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, mindful that we mustn’t go somewhere Alan may be.

  “Wait and see. Patience is a fine attribute, you’d do well to learn some,” he says smugly.

  We drive for twenty minutes and listen to uplifting music rather than talk, for which I’m grateful and I can feel my tension easing with each mile that passes.

  Soon Sebastian indicates a right turn and we pull in to a country hotel, which I have not been to before. It looks lovely, much character and very few cars in the car park, certainly not Alan’s car nor Mike’s.

  Sebastian climbs out of the car and opens my door, and I step out. He takes my hand and we walk into the hotel where a log fire burns in the entrance hall.

  “Wait here,” he instructs. He approaches the reception desk and chats to the receptionist for a few minutes, before returning to me clutching a small white card. “Come” he says and again takes my hand. He leads me across the hall to a staircase and it is apparent that we are not dining in the restaurant, but instead heading to a bedroom.

  11

  I know I should protest – vehemently – and yet I follow him as a lamb to the slaughter, my body tingling in anticipation. At the top stair, Sebastian takes the right turn and we pass through an open fire door, the floorboards creaking as we tread. We stop at the very end door and Sebastian places the modern key card into the lock, which gives, and he opens the door. It momentarily strikes me as odd that such a timeworn hotel should have modern technology.

  Stepping into the room, Sebastian pushes the door shut behind us with his foot and he’s upon me immediately, slamming me brutally against the wall next to the bathroom, his breath quickening. He’s kissing and nibbling my neck and while one hand is roughly fondling my left breast, his other is hitching up my skirt.

  My arms are a
round his waist and my hand travels down to his buttocks and I pull him harder against me, wanting him so desperately now. I feel his hand between us and he’s unbuttoning his fly, I unbuckle his belt awkwardly, feeling his steely erection through the fabric of his boxer shorts, his smart suit trousers puddle at his feet. He pushes his boxer shorts down and clumsily steps out of his lower clothing. His enormous penis falls heavily into my waiting hand, he sucks in his breath sharply as I squeeze my fingers around his length.

  “Fuck, Elizabeth,” he groans, nostrils flaring, as I purposefully stroke along his throbbing veins.

  I feel his long deft fingers pull roughly at the tops of my panties. He tugs them down impatiently, and I help him, stepping out of them as they fall to my feet. His hand moves past the tops of my silky hold-up stockings.

  “Christ, you’re so sexy, you’re wearing stockings for me, shit that turns me on … I have to have you. Now,” he breathes.

  He lifts me with his hands under my buttocks, wrapping my legs around his waist while I lean back heavily into the wall. The tip of his hard cock finds the entrance to my hot, wet core. He lowers me just enough to allow the slick head of his throbbing member inside me and he teases me with it, allowing it to enter me just an inch before pulling his hips back. Suddenly he drops me hard and the length of his shaft drives into me… so deep that I slap at his back, my fingers biting into his flesh.

  As he lifts me again and again, up and down onto his burning shaft, my back slamming into the wall we are oblivious to the world outside the thin wooden hotel door; we are lost in our lust.

  His cock hits my G-spot and just keeps on thrashing against it and I feel myself building, my mounting climax sending ripples of orgasmic pleasure from my groin until the waves of ecstasy are coursing through me, I cry escapes from deep within my throat. He pulls me down onto him harder, chasing his own climax.

  He grinds more slowly now, and I feel the sweat on his skin as my fingers splay and pull him even more deeply in to me. He breathes my name into my hair as the convulsions of his release ripple through him, releasing his warm creamy nectar into me.

  We slide down into a hot, sticky heap on the floor and lay entwined catching our breath, stroking, kissing and both savouring the moment. When the last embers of our passion have ended, we move to the bed and curl up against the soft pillows. Sebastian closes his eyes and is soon asleep, sated and relaxed.

  Propping myself up on my arm, I look at him and think how handsome he is with his dark eyebrows, messed up black hair greying at the temples and a shadow of dark stubble on his face. My gaze travels down to his tangle of dark chest hair, which trails down in a thick line past his navel to the bushy mound at his groin. He is so masculine, with an almost primitive ruggedness that I find so sexy. As I study this man intently I am unaware that he has woken and is watching me too.

  “You like what you see?” His words make me jump and I blush having been caught staring appreciatively at his body.

  “Mm I like, very much!” I purr with a sly grin, and he moves quickly then, flipping me onto my back and straddling me, he pins my arms on either side with his knees and I’m unable to move. He has me trapped.

  “Sebastian you’re a bully let me go!” I protest and laugh simultaneously, but he increases his weight further onto his knees, rendering my attempts to escape entirely futile.

  “Oh you like to play rough do you?” I ask playfully.

  “Oh you have no idea, Mrs. Dove,” he replies darkly. “Sure, I like to play rough and I like my women precisely where you are now – restrained and ready for me.” He has a cunning grin and an excited gleam in his eyes, he looks so wicked and for a moment I am fearful of what he may have in mind for me next but he kisses my lips and moves off, releasing me.

  “Another time Elizabeth.”

  “Sebastian… you’re so kinky.” It sounds such a puerile statement. He’s has roused my curiosity and I want to know more. “I’ve been looking online and I’m kind of curious about all that Dom/sub stuff.”

  “And it turns you on,” he states knowingly.

  “Actually, yes it does. I guess because Alan’s totally disinterested in sex and the least dominating man in the world. It’s a contrast to my life,” I explain. “It’s just that I have to be the boss in every element of my life, all my roles are leading roles; at home, at work…I actually find it very appealing to think that a man might take some of that control away from me, tell me what to do for once, not put up with my shit,” I laugh.

  “Where have you been all my life, Elizabeth?” He kisses me again and tenderly strokes my hair. “I’m here for you now darling, you don’t have to be in charge any more, in fact I won’t allow you to be so around me - just so you understand that point. I’d go further to say, if you try and lead me, you’ll make me angry Elizabeth.” He looks sternly at me and I can sense that he means what he says.

  This man is used to dominating and asserting his will, and I pity those who try and belittle him – I think he’d make a cruel enemy.

  “Have all the women in your life allowed you to dominate them?” I ask.

  “They beg me to Elizabeth!” He has that sly look again - raised eyebrow, half grin.

  “Is that why you like Scarlett working for you, because she’s subservient? Does the power that you have over her arouse you?” I’m treading on dangerous ground here, but it seems a good opportunity to push him on this as it bothers me so.

  “Don’t confuse business with pleasure,” he rebukes. “I’ve got the message, I know you find it bizarre that an attractive woman lives and works at my house but you show me a wealthy, unattached man who wouldn’t choose an attractive woman to work for him rather than a hag. I don’t intend to justify my choice of employees to you again so the topic is now taboo. Understood?”

  “Ok, point taken” I concede. “But you did admit that she was once more to you.”

  “I felt sorry for her,” he says, as though that excuses his actions. “It was a low point in my life and she was there – it was over before it began and she knows her place. She values her job too much to play up.”

  “Play up? Sebastian, I’ve seen the way she looks at you … at us together. Believe me, that woman is in love with you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Change the subject.”

  “Ok. What was Libby like?” I acquiesce, hoping this next question doesn’t also upset him.

  “She was the most gentle, beautiful creature ever to walk the earth. Beautiful but complex, she struggled, you know, with many things in life, not a strong person. Very highly strung she’d get anxious and at the end, paranoid.”

  “In the early days when we first met, she was vivacious and spirited. I think not having children was a heavy cross to bear. In the end, she was on all kinds of pills, seeing the best psychologists but she wasn’t rational. Her paranoia grew and she began hallucinating. She imagined all manner of things at Penmorrow, accusing me of various wrongdoings and then one day, she just… opted out.”

  He looks sad now, miles away as if he is reliving those last few painful months and days with his mentally sick wife in that old house.

  I regret asking him about her and try and lighten his mood. “C’mon, let’s have a shower together then I need to get back to work!”

  I jump off the bed, strip out of my clothes and run stark naked to the bathroom, giggling playfully and hoping he will rise to the bait and come after me. He does not disappoint.

  The drive back to my office is more relaxed than our previous journey- my troubles have been temporarily put to the back of my mind. I find myself wishing that Sebastian would take me back to Penmorrow with him. The idea of running away is tempting, if it wasn’t for the children…

  We kiss goodbye in the car, which is parked a hundred yards from my office, and we agree to text each other later tonight. He blows me a kiss as I turn and walk back to work.

  I’m late for my three o’clock meeting. What was I thinking? It’s such a crucial meeting;
there is so much riding on this.

  As I rush into the office, shrugging out of my coat, I see the meeting room is already heaving with people talking and sipping coffee. I dash into the ladies cloakroom to reapply my lipstick and dab a little powder over my still flushed cheeks and smooth down my hair, hoping that I don’t reek of sex. Just in case, I spritz myself with perfume from my handbag. Good to go, they will never guess what I have been up to, I smirk to myself.

  “Hi Beth you’ve got a message from Alan to call him back please on his mobile, and Joe’s headmaster called – I said you’d call him back after the meeting. There are three contracts to sign on your desk too please, all urgent… oh and Nicky wants to know if she can go ahead and order the new marketing brochures, if so she needs to know today or the deal ends and the price goes up.” My secretary is so efficient but the strain builds as my workload and personal issues mount on my shoulders once again.

  This meeting is important, since the recession hit in the UK so many firms are struggling to survive. Ours has weathered the storm better than most, however new leads are at an all time low and that is why I had to submit an ambitious tender application for a substantial contract. If we are successful it will mean our projected turnover will double, meaning long awaited growth for Evershaw Dove. Now it seems likely that we will be the preferred bidder, panic has set in as Ruth and I struggle to raise the considerable financial resources required to meet our contractual obligations.

  Staffing is our main concern – we will need to increase our HR team, which of course means advertising, training, and possibly larger offices. We will need to increase our administration support team by two full time members of staff. All of this requires a significant injection of cash; money we don’t have.

  Alan and I have a colossal mortgage already with a second charge levied on the building by our commercial lender so it’s not been possible to leverage any more money against the house. Ruth lives with her mother in her mother’s house so, again, that’s not a cash source we can utilise. It was therefore an enormous relief when our accountant suggested calling this meeting. He has a network of investors he said, all eager to squirrel away their funds into our sector rather than seeing it exposed to the perils of hedge funds, shares and even high street banks, which are now largely owned by the British public. The syndicate is a long established one, he assured us, with one or two ‘new boys’ who seem keen to shore up their liquid funds.