by Carla Blake
Watching from the bar Simon smiled grimly and turning back to his pint, asked himself why he’d even bothered to look? Rachel wouldn’t walk in here. Not to this pub. It was too noisy and family orientated. Too male. She’d be in some poncy, girlie place in the middle of town. Full of fake plants and wicker furniture and olives in cut glass bowls.
His mate nudged him. “See the football on Wednesday?” He said, downing the last of his pint and ordering another. “Bloody Blues played like a right bunch of divs. Hundreds of chances they had, but could they get a single one in? Could they buggery. Christ, my old Granny could have played better than that lot.”
“I didn’t see it.” Simon said.
“Oh, right. Out with Rachel were you?”
“ No. Rachel and I are finished.”
“What? How come? I thought you two had it sorted.”
“So did I.” ‘Simon muttered, setting down his pint and ordering a large Scotch instead. “‘Till I found out the fuckin’ bitch was cheating on me, then I dumped her. Fucking whore. No one messes me round like that!”
“Bloody right.” His mate agreed. “Bloody women. Can’t trust ‘em further than you can throw ‘em. So, who’s she seeing then? Anyone we know?”
“Fuck knows. But I’m going to find out, and when I do he’s going to wish he’d never been born, bloody tosser! You up for it?”
His mate grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Roughing someone up? You bet I’m up for it. When’s it happening?”
“I mean are you up to helping me find out who it is?”
“Oh, right. Yeah. Okay.”
“Good. Then keep an eye on Rachel for me. See where she goes, who she meets.”
“You’re thinking it might be someone from work?”
Simon shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know. Just watch her Phil, okay. And tell me the minute you know anything.”
Pausing outside the closed bedroom door Rachel softly drummed her fingers on the woodwork. “Polly’s room.” She said, indicating with a shake of her head that they wouldn’t be going in. “It’s not that I can’t go in, it’s more that I just don’t – out of politeness. She’s very … particular.”
“Oh, right” Kate grinned. “Borrowed a lot of her stuff have you?”
“No, it’s not that. I can borrow anything I like. It’s just that I have to ask first, or she gets very ‘ uppity’ about it. She has a system you see. Colour coordinated or something. I think the contents of her dressing table may be satellite tracked.”
Kate pulled a face. “Scary woman.” She said. “But never mind, I’ll make sure I only pinch things off you. This your room?”
Rachel opened the door for her.
“Oh, yes.” Kate said, stepping in. “Very you. And I love the lemon walls. It must be like standing in a bowl of sunshine when the sun’s out. And you have the same duvet cover as me! How weird is that? And let’s see.. yep, a nice comfy bed. Want to see how comfy it really is…. Problem babe?”
“Not sure.” Rachel said, staring at her feet. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just all this talking about Simon hasn’t really put me in the mood.”
“Even for a cuddle?” Kate soothed. “That’s all I was thinking of, really. I’m not that bloody insensitive. I just thought you might like me to hold you for a bit. Take some of the sting away.”
“Then I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” Rachel smiled. “But no falling asleep. Polly will be back soon.”
“I think’ Polly said, as she handed Rachel the brown paper bag bulging with steaming fish and chips. “That it might be a good idea if you two take yours back to Kate’s. I can’t be sure, but I swear I saw Simon’s Ferrari parked further down the road.”
Rachel immediately recoiled. “Are you sure?” She asked, already heading for the window. “ Loads of people drive Ferraris you know.”
“Not round here they don’t. Look, Rach, do yourself a favour and go back to Kate’s. And then if nothing happens and it isn’t Simon, then fine, you can call me a neurotic old biddy and I’ll take up knitting or something. But if it is him and he is spying on the house then I really think it would be a good idea if you weren’t here.”
“And how exactly are we going to get Rachel out with him seeing?” Kate asked. “ Smuggle her out under a blanket? That’ll be really inconspicuous. And what’s to stop him following my car?”
Polly ran a hand through her hair. “The fact that he doesn’t know what your car is for one thing!” She tutted. “Tell you what, you leave now and I’ll see you out, and while we’re both making a big thing about saying goodbye, Rachel can sneak out the back way and meet you in the next street.”
“I suppose that could work.” Kate considered. “But again, what’s to stop Simon following me?!”
“Nothing I guess, except it’s Rachel he wants to find and not one of my mates, so why would he even be interested? And look on the bright side. At least it gives you another night alone together.”
Getting out of bed, Rachel shivered in the chilly, night air and wished she was wearing something other than just her skin. Kate was still asleep, her slumbering form all but buried under the duvet, and reaching for her bathrobe, Rachel resisted the urge to lean across and kiss the tiny bit of forehead she could still see.
The bathroom was equally as cold and when Rachel turned on the light a moth excitedly battered itself against the window in its fight to get out. Poor thing she thought, reaching across to let it out, and poor me for having to run away from my own house. Polly hadn’t even been right. Half an hour after she’d said goodbye to Kate on the doorstep and she’d cut across the garden in shoes wholly not designed for traipsing across grass, the Ferrari had disappeared and been replaced by a dark coloured Fiat they both knew belonged to the bloke down the road with the dodgy knee. So there’d been no need for the cloak and dagger stuff after all. Simon hadn’t been stalking her and their fish and chip supper could have been eaten still steaming from the wrapper rather than warmed up in the microwave. She could also have been sleeping in her own bed instead of standing here shivering, although to be honest, she didn’t really mind that so much. Sharing with Kate was wonderful and Polly had been really sorry. Promising a lovely dinner when she got home and a box of chocolates. The panic, she said, was over.
Except Rachel wasn’t so sure. Bitter experience had taught her that Simon could hold a grudge for days, weeks even, and over the silliest of things. The ice incident for example. It hadn’t been anything life threatening, she’d simply forgotten to put ice in his drink, but Simon hadn’t let it go. Instead he’d waited an entire month before getting his own back by tipping a whole bucket of freezing cold ice all over her whilst she’d slept.
She’d woken up screaming, convinced she was going to have a heart attack and with her sheets and duvet dripping. Simon, however, had loved it and sneering at her shocked face he’d warned her never to do anything so stupid again! And all that over forgotten ice.
What chance did she have after dumping him?
Absolutely none if she was honest. He might have gained a little crude satisfaction out of taking a swipe at Polly, but she knew he wouldn’t be satisfied. Not until he’d had a pop at her.
Kate was toasty warm when Rachel finally crept back into bed and spooning against Kate’s back, she snuggled in tight and allowed her right hand to gently cradle Kate’s breast, feeling her soft, warm nipple press against her palm.
“You’ll wake it up if you do that.” Kate said sleepily, rolling onto her back to return Rachel’s kiss. “Not that I’m complaining. What time is it, babe?”
“Early.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“No, I just got up for a drink and it’s freezing out there.”
“So you thought you’d warm your hands up on my tits! Have you no shame?”
“I thought you weren’t complaining?”
/>
“Depends if you’re planning to stop or not.”
“Do you want me to?”
“Do you?”
It smelt delicious under the duvet. Of fabric conditioner and scented moisturizer and the warm musk of pussy.
Kate’s legs were already spreading. A low groan escaping her lips as she realised what Rachel was about to do.
Rachel touched her, the fingers of one hand gliding up her inner thigh before brushing up against Kate’s pussy and softly stroking her fluff. Bending her head, she kissed her and raised her knees, pecking at the flesh along the length of one thigh as she raked her nails along the other and savoured the aroma of Kate’s pussy. Then touching a finger to the delicate pink folds, she pushed the tip of her finger into Kate’s cunt and waited until Kate was shuddering beneath her, before lowering her head and gliding her tongue through the wetness, her finger slipping in just a little bit more as she gently fucked her and her tongue circled her clit and lapped at her juices.
Kate squirmed and reaching beneath the duvet, grabbed Rachel by the shoulder and pleaded with her to bring her off. Rachel licked and pushing her finger all the way in, she waited until Kate had juiced up even further before adding another finger. Then she fucked her. Deep and slow. Her tongue, once more, at Kate’s clit, circling the tiny nub and tasting the tang of salt as she licked and sucked and juices ran down her chin, inviting her to delve still deeper, until Kate, unable to hold on any longer, told her she was coming.
And that was when Rachel lifted her head from Kate’s pussy, and whilst still finger fucking her, used her other hand to play with Kate’s clit, rubbing round and round until Kate came in a shuddering, gasping, trembling orgasm.
It didn’t take her long to recover, though, and once Rachel had emerged from beneath the duvet with her hair all messed up and a soppy grin on her face, Kate lost no time in kissing her and thanking her for ‘ the best sex she’d ever had!’ before insisting that now it was her turn!
With some effort, Rachel persuaded her to wait. Wallow, she said, enjoy the after glow, there was no rush.
But Kate was in no mood and after enjoying it for all of ten seconds, she was on her. Asking Rachel to put her bathrobe back on, then following suit herself, as she made Rachel kneel up on all fours whilst she rummaged under the bed, dragged out the box of sex toys and selecting a tapering dildo with a selection of settings, knelt behind Rachel, kissed her ass, and then, when Rachel was nicely turned on, fed the toy into Rachel’s vagina..
It was the most wonderful ‘full’ feeling Rachel had ever had and pushing her backside towards Kate, she urged her to feed it in still further, sighing with pleasure when Kate slid the vibrate button to ‘on’ and reaching round with her other hand, parted Rachel’s pussy lips to start stroking her clit.
Rachel almost came there and then and with her legs threatening to give way beneath her, pleaded with Kate to turn the dildo all the way up and fuck the life out of her.
Kate wasn’t prepared to go that far but she did turn the dildo up to its highest setting and shoving it in and out of Rachel’s throbbing cunt, carried on rubbing and circling her clit until Rachel, finally collapsing on the bed, came so hard that Kate really did start to wonder if she might be having a heart attack.
Instead she lay there gasping, and with double handfuls of duvet scrunched up in her hands breathlessly asked Kate to leave the dildo inside her whilst she rode the last, soft waves of her orgasm.
Afterwards they lay slumped into each other’s arms. Sticky and sweaty and completely unable to stop kissing each other.
“And you thought I was good!” Rachel smiled, kissing the tip of Kate’s nose. “ What have I done that has ever compared to that.”
“Loads.” Kate reassured her. “But just you wait till next time. I’ll blow your little socks off. And there’s always going to be a ‘next time’ babe, I promise. So. Are we ready for sleep now?”
“After that!” Rachel replied, shrugging out of her robe and dropping it to the floor. “I’m going to be asleep in ten seconds flat!”
“Brilliant. But if you fancy more water babe, don’t let me stop you.”
Just as she’d said she would, Rachel dropped off almost immediately, but Kate, wired from good sex and with a head that refused to stop spinning, stared up at the ceiling and thought about Simon. He was, she concurred, her official biggest worry as of now. Before she had fretted over whether Rachel might not believe she was here to stay and as a result leave her rather than risk another broken heart, but that had been completely dissipated now, pulverized to bits by frantic lovemaking and whispered assurances that all was well, and she had thought, perhaps naively so, that her life might actually be starting to run a little smoother. But then this Simon bloke had reared his ugly head and she’d found herself with something new to mentally chew her fingernails over.
And the worst thing was she didn’t think it was unfounded. From Rachel’s account of their time together, plus the information Polly had later supplied, it was clear to her that Simon was a certified nut job. He was also clearly violent, which didn’t help, and unstable and now he was on the war path, which wasn’t good, she didn’t like to think what he was capable of. Yet Rachel, strangely, didn’t seem to be all that perturbed. In fact, she’d hardly said anything at all when Polly had told her he’d turned up at the house ranting and raving and kicking the door, and she’d hardly flinched at having to sneak out the back door in order to avoid him.
She couldn’t figure it out. Why wasn’t she afraid? If she’d been the one Simon was after, she’d be crapping bloody bricks by now, wondering where the prick was and when he was going to pounce? Yet Rachel just skipped along, almost as if she knew Simon was all mouth and no trousers and therefore unlikely to carry out any of his threats. Except that wasn’t true either. Simon had threatened her plenty in the past and carried through, which meant he was more than capable of carrying out whatever sick and twisted revenge his puerile, little mind came up with. So why was Rachel being so blasé about it all?
Kate asked her about it the following morning, and although Rachel’s reaction was kind of what she’d hoped for, it wasn’t what she expected.
“Of course I’m bloody scared.” Rachel insisted when Kate gently broached the subject. “I’d be mad not to be! God, even the mere thought of him makes me want to run away and hide.”
“That’s what I thought you might say.” Kate said, returning to the hob where she was busy fixing herself and Rachel a breakfast of scrambled eggs. “‘Cos as far as I’m concerned, you should be scared of him. It’s just that you don’t seem to be.”
“Well I am! I’m bloody terrified, but what do you expect me to do? Hide under a blanket all day and pull at my hair? I’ve done that, Kate, more times than I care to remember but it never got me anywhere and I’m sick of it. I don’t want to go round anymore saying ‘yes Simon’, no Simon, three bags full, Simon’. I just want to be rid of him. Forever.”
“Okay. Well, as far as I’m concerned, you are.”
“Yes, I am! And if he comes anywhere near me or you or Polly, I’m going straight to the police and let them sort the bastard out. I want nothing more to do with him.”
Nine
“Monday mornings are, without doubt, the work of the devil.” Rachel moaned, climbing out of their warm, snuggly bed and wincing when her feet hit the cold floor. “What say you? Devil’s work or just God’s sick sense of humour?”
Kate didn’t reply. Instead crawling out of her side of the bed, she wordlessly grabbed her bathrobe, shrugged it on and slouching downstairs to puff on the first cigarette of the day followed it with the strongest mug of coffee she could make. Then, after munching her way silently through a bowl of cereal, she showered, dressed and sorted through her handbag, all without saying a single word.
She didn’t speak in the car either but preferred to stare moodily out of the win
dow. Her conversation confined to tutting at the traffic or at the untidy clumps of school kids who stood shivering at bus stops, resentfully staring back at her and Rachel as if they had no right to be inside a nice, warm car whilst they were stuck outside in the cold.
A cheery ‘good morning’ from one of their colleagues didn’t receive much of a response either, and swiftly climbing the stairs to the first floor, Rachel promised herself that if Kate was going to be like this every Monday morning, then she would make a point never to spend another Sunday night with her again.
Rachel’s desk was cluttered. A pile of letters and a green folder marked ‘urgent’ taking centre stage amid the assorted mess she had left behind on Friday. Her coffee mug was still there too, unwashed and now crawling with the first signs of fluffy white bacteria cultivated over the weekend.
Disgusted, she pushed it to one side and switched on her computer, waiting for the screen to flicker into life and demand a password before presenting her with today’s list of e-mails. She had twenty three, five of which she immediately identified as ‘spam’ and dumped into the waste basket. Then tucking one ankle behind the other, she opened the first and began to type, blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes that were now watching her from the other end of the office.
Half an hour later the pair of eyes turned up at her desk, bearing a plastic cup of coffee and an apology for being such a grumpy, old cow.
Rachel wasn’t impressed. “Right.” She said, thumping out the last line of a reply and finishing it with an extra hard full stop. “So tell me, is this what Monday morning is always going to be like, or was it just me making you so bloody grumpy!”
“No, of course not.” Kate said in a small voice. “I mean, it wasn’t you making me grumpy. And I’m not usually like this I promise.”
“So why today?”
Kate shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe it’s because we had such a lovely weekend and I didn’t want it to end. But I promise it won’t happen again and to make up for it, meet me in the cloakroom in five minutes? It’s about time you had a break anyway. You haven’t stirred for ages!”
