by D A Latham
Andy.
My heart lurched every time I thought of him. I wished it'd been him making me try on boots and laughing at my choice of socks. I wished it'd been Andy who'd admitted he loved Nandos as we searched for somewhere for lunch. I had to mentally slap myself and focus on the fact that I was with a gorgeous, fun man who seemed to really like me and was intent on making me smile. I didn't mention Andy, nor did he.
"We should get you a pretty dress this afternoon," said Aaron as he wiped his fingers with a napkin. "Then I can take you out to dinner tonight to show you off."
"I think you've spent enough," I said, not wanting to be greedy.
He laughed. "Sally, I did tell you I wrapped a deal this week. What I've spent... it's petty cash. You deserve lovely things. It's what all ladies should have, especially one as beautiful as you." His face was earnest, as though he was telling me a great truth that I should believe.
"I don't have any dresses," I admitted. "I generally try and keep my leg covered."
"Just put a pair of stockings on. I never let my scars stop me from wearing T-shirts. I don't really care who sees them."
"I wish I could be like that. I've always been embarrassed about mine."
He stroked his long, slender finger down my face and under my chin, tipping my gaze up to meet his. "Tell me, does my scar put you off?"
"No, of course not."
"Right. So why are you assuming yours will?" His bright blue eyes held my gaze. "Has anyone not fancied you, once they'd seen them?" I knew he was asking about Andy.
"No."
"Exactly. Sally, scars are never something to be ashamed of. They're just something we get. Yours and mine are on the surface. Other people get them buried deep inside. One thing you can be sure of though, is that everyone has them."
He bought me a dress. Not just any old dress either; a beautiful, fitted silk one that skimmed over my curves, showed off my waist, and covered the worst bit of my leg. He was waiting outside the changing room as I emerged wearing it. "You look gorgeous," he told me, beaming at me. I felt like a million dollars.
"It's really expensive," I whispered. "I'm sure I could find a cheaper one in New Look." I'd seen the price tag as I'd tried it on. It was two hundred and fifty quid.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "It looks amazing on you, which is all that counts."
Another hour later I had a pair of shoes, matching clutch, and some stockings, as well as a new lingerie set from Rigby and Peller which had been expertly fitted by a no-nonsense lady who'd taken just one look at me and told me my size. I'd been wearing the wrong size for years apparently.
Aaron treated himself to a couple of track suits from Massimo and a new pair of Timberlands as well, seemingly unconcerned about the cost of things as he chose them. I wondered how much he earned if he could spend seven hundred and fifty quid on three track suits without blinking an eye. He did keep getting phone calls though, which must’ve been annoying on his day off, having to duck away from me every half hour or so.
"Tomorrow, I need you to write down the payment details for Alpha for me. I'll call them first thing on Monday and pay them off," he said as we walked back to his car.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" I asked.
"Absolutely sure. I've enjoyed making you smile all afternoon. It's a small amount to me, but it means your first pay is yours to keep, with nobody getting their greedy mitts on it."
"I feel very spoilt," I admitted, beaming up at him.
"It's worth it just to see your beautiful smile," he said.
"Charmer," I quipped. "So tell me, what makes you smile?" He thought about it for a while as we strolled along.
"The dogs do, especially when they're naughty. I'm hopeless at telling them off."
"What else?" I asked as we hopped into the car.
"When I win a deal. I'm competitive in business; I always like to win." He flashed me a smile. "Plus, of course, there's always the pleasure of making beautiful women happy, both in and out of bed."
Cue another belly squeeze. Aaron struck me as an intensely sexual man in a way that Andy hadn't been. I expected him to be a dirty devil in bed; the type of man who'd studied how to make a woman scream. I pressed my thighs together to quell the growing insistence I felt. Even the way he handled the car was sexy, his long, slender fingers pressed the indicator with gentle precision, every movement sensual, almost languid.
"I'll pick you up around seven," he said. "We'll go to a great jazz club I know. They always have a band on a Saturday night. It's a fun place. The food’s good too."
"Sounds great," I said as I got out the car. I carried my purchases into the flat and lay them on the bed. As I switched on the kettle, I checked my phone, which I'd left at home.
Twenty- eight missed calls, all from Andy. There were also three voicemails and five texts. Gingerly, I listened to the first voicemail. It was just a rather clipped can-you-call-me-type message. As I listened to each in turn, it appeared that he'd twigged that I'd ended it and the messages sounded gentler each time. The last one was almost pleading. I could hear the anguish in his voice as he told me he'd sent an email.
I poured my tea and settled my laptop on the coffee table. I spotted his email straightaway and opened it.
From: Andy McCarthy
To: Sally Higgs
Time: 15.24 Saturday 7th February 2015
Subject: Sorry
Darling Sally
I'm sorry about last night, actually I'm sorry about so many things, it's almost hard to know where to begin. I should have told you about your debt, I know that now. In my defence, I've always separated business and personal. You owed Alpha, not me. I know a quick Google would reveal that I'm the CEO of Alpha, so I can't blame you for thinking it was me who you owed money to.
I did realise it weighed heavily on you, but in my stupidity, I figured you'd be happy paying it back from the compensation Rupert and I got for you, then you'd never be any the wiser.
I suppose I knew you were short of money, but it didn't really register. I've never experienced poverty, so I'm sorry I didn't try to understand. In hindsight, I thought I was helping you with the meals and things, but you were right: I wasn't listening, and now I really regret that. The idea that I let you go cold and hungry makes me feel ashamed. I'm sorry.
I should explain why I never took you home. I was never ashamed of you. I was ashamed of myself. I live an extravagant life, as do my parents. Set against your struggles, it felt flashy and greedy. I didn't want to rub your nose in our wealth. I also liked that you were oblivious to who I was. You landed Drew McCarthy, and you didn't even know. After years of gold-diggers and the cold, ambitious ex, it was something fresh and real, which I've never experienced before. I didn't want to enlighten you, as I was enjoying what we had. Rest assured it was never, ever because I was ashamed of you.
You told me you fell in love, and like a wanker, I told you I liked you. I'm so very sorry I said that, I'm just not good at talking about my emotions. Listen to the words in this: Rhianna-Stay and they'll explain it perfectly.
If I've really blown it, then I'd still like to run your cases, free of charge. It's the very least I can do for you in exchange for everything you did for me.
Miss you.
Andy xx
I read it several times, tears tugging the corners of my eyes. I clicked on the link to discover he'd sent a video of Rhianna singing “Stay.”
“Funny you're the broken one, but I'm the only one who needed saving.”
That line did it for me. The tears began to fall freely, and for the millionth time that day, I questioned what I'd done. I read through the email another ten times, wondering if I should reply to it or not. The problem was compounded by the realisation that having encouraged Aaron, if I went back to Andy, I'd be both jobless and homeless. Andy had said nothing in his email about cancelling my debt or making any sort of firm promises. He appeared to like things the way they'd been, which had made me unhappy. Eventually, I hit
reply and simply wrote: Nothing's changed. You still can't give me what I need.
With a heavy heart, I pressed “send,” then set about getting myself ready for the evening, curling my hair carefully and applying my makeup to look seductive. The stakes were high, and I needed that debt paid off. Aaron was my best hope.
He looked amazing when he knocked on my door at seven, wearing what appeared to be a designer shirt, black trousers, and a black leather jacket. I felt a million dollars in my new dress and shoes. The heels were a little tricky as I was out of practice, but they made my hips sway as I walked carefully to the Porsche. "You look wow," he said, casting an appreciative eye over me. I smiled back.
"So do you." He even smelled seductive. A woody, citrusy cologne wafted over us as we closed the car doors. I'd used a sample of perfumed body wash I'd picked up in Boots, having used up all the perfume samples I'd managed to snaffle. I hoped the scent would last a few hours.
Aaron really knew how to show a girl a good time. He took me to a jazz club set in a basement in Mayfair. The food was divine, the wine top quality, and best of all, once we finished eating, the tables were pushed back and a dance floor created. "Shall we?" He said, holding his hand out. The band was fantastic, doing a great cover of Amy Winehouse's Back to Black. Aaron was a good dancer, moving effortlessly in time to the music; his lean, rangy body swayed sensually to the beat.
I loved to dance, even though I wasn't particularly good at it. I loved to feel the beat deep inside and lose myself in the rhythm. The dance floor filled up quickly to become a seething mass of sweaty bodies grinding like puppets to the beat of the drums. Aaron was as in the moment as I, giving himself over to the music until we were both slicked with sweat. He motioned to me, asking if I wanted a drink.
We stepped off the dance floor and over to the bar. "Can I just have a lemonade please?" I asked, "I need a long drink." He ordered two lemonades and leaned back on the bar.
"Are you having a good time?"
"The best," I said, beaming. He grinned back.
"Me too. I've not been out dancing for a while."
"Me neither. It's fun though."
I drained my glass. The music changed tempo to a slow, sultry rendition of Marvin Gaye's Let’s Get it On. Aaron grabbed my hand and dragged me back onto the dance floor. "I love this song," he said, as he pulled me into his arms. The sea of writhing bodies closed in on us, pushing me into Aaron's chest. He felt firm, his arms strong as they wrapped around my shoulders. I breathed in his scent, he smelt warm and masculine, testament to how much we'd been dancing. As I was crushed up against him, I felt his penis press against my hip. I glanced up to see him gazing down at me, a sly smirk grazing his face.
My body reacted independently of what my head wanted. I felt hot, horny, and wet. I could only pray that my aroused nipples weren't poking through my dress, announcing their interest to the world. Aaron was watching me intently and must have noticed my flushed cheeks, because as soon as the song ended, he whispered into my ear; "You ready to go?" I could only nod, not trusting my own voice not to come out as a high-pitched squeak. He made short work of paying our bill and collecting our coats. He held me tightly round my waist as we stepped outside into the frigid night air.
As we reached the car, he reached across me to open the door, our faces just inches apart. Before I had time to think, his lips were on mine, our tongues meeting for the first time. The problem of him being my boss faded away as we connected physically for the first time.
His stubble felt a little alien as I'd been used to Andy's perfectly clean-shaven skin, but the slight prickling felt unashamedly male. I forced myself to relax into his kiss. It didn't come as naturally as I'd felt with Andy, but Aaron represented a future free from debt, so I happily went along with it.
"I've wanted to do that from the moment I first met you in Marcus's office," he said when we came up for air. I smiled at him and ducked into the car. He slid into the driver's seat and switched on the ignition. "I can't wait to get you home," he murmured, before easing the Porsche out of its parking space. He drove home like a maniac. I'd already discovered he drove way too fast at the best of times, but on the empty London streets, he hammered the powerful sports engine almost to the point that my knuckles were white from gripping the edges of my seat. For a person who'd lost so much in a car crash, he seemed oblivious to the dangers he was putting us both in.
I was relieved when we stopped at the gates to Lakeswood to wait for them to swing open. Once through, Aaron floored the pedal to fly up the drive, before coming to a screeching halt in front of the garage. "There you go, home in one piece," he said brightly.
"Why don't you use a driver or a taxi?" I asked. It was odd that he always drove himself.
"We were in a cab when the accident happened. I'd rather die by my own hand rather than someone else's."
I understood.
I followed him into the house. "Drink?" He asked, rubbing the dogs’ ears as they'd come to greet us.
"Please." The wine I'd drunk was beginning to wear off, and I needed something to relax me. I wasn't sure if I was shaking because of the journey home or due to fear of what was to come. In my heart of hearts, I didn't want to sleep with him. It was too soon after Andy, but I knew I had to seal the deal. A glass of brandy might help.
I'd been in the drawing room a few times, mainly chasing after the dogs. It was a large, luxurious room, furnished in shades of muted gold with black accents. Marcus had truly surpassed himself. Aaron strode over to the sideboard and poured out two glasses of amber liquid from one of the crystal decanters. He handed one to me. "Are you nervous?" He asked, after seeing my shaking hands. I nodded. "Why?"
"I'm not sure," I said.
He drew his finger down my face, gently stroking me. "You should never be scared of me. I'm a good lover, Sally. I'll make you scream, but only in a good way."
My traitorous body responded, sending an alert to all the requisite nervous systems. I felt my cheeks get hot and my nipples stiffen. I threw back my brandy, hoping for some Dutch courage. Aaron just smiled, amused, before plucking the empty glass out of my hand and setting it down. He kissed me again, a brandy-soaked kiss. His hands wound into my hair, anchoring me to him as our tongues stroked and danced. I felt him lift me up; his lips still on mine and carry me out to the hall and up the stairs.
It felt strange being in someone else's bedroom. For years, I'd only ever had sex in my bedsit. The types of men I'd attracted lived in grotty shared houses, which I hadn't felt comfortable in. As Aaron sat me down on the edge of the bed, I glanced around. It was an intensely masculine room, decorated in shades of rich chocolate and cream. In the centre of the room was a vast bed, the head- and base-boards covered with dark chocolate-covered leather.
I sat paralysed as Aaron unbuttoned his shirt and pulled out his cufflinks. His chest was covered in dark hair, which seemed groomed to show off his impressive muscles. He threw his shirt carelessly onto the floor. "Let me help you out of that dress," he said, reaching behind me to lower the zipper. With the back opened, the front of my dress sagged forward, exposing my lace bra, which he'd paid for.
With extraordinary dexterity, he reached one hand behind me and unclipped my bra. He slid it off and gazed at my naked breasts. "Spectacular," he breathed, before leaning down to capture a nipple on his mouth.
He suckled hard, causing me to arch into him and sending a spike of pleasure all the way to my groin. I gasped at the intensity of it, unsure as to whether or not I liked it. His hands roamed over me, feeling my skin, enveloping me in his innately masculine way. He lifted me slightly and pulled off my dress, flinging it on top of his shirt. The untidy pile jarred in that impeccably-polished space.
I watched as he undid his trousers, letting them fall to the floor. He was wearing grey jersey Calvins, which showcased his erection perfectly.
Then they too were removed, and his dick sprang free. My mouth went dry.
It was long. I mean really long. It
wasn't particularly thick, but what it lacked in girth, it made up for in length. I must have been really staring, because he chuckled at my reaction. "Your turn," he said as he dragged my knickers down my legs and plunged a finger into me.
"So juicy," he remarked as he pumped his long finger in and out. "You feel ready to me."
I couldn't just lie there like a wet fish, so while he was opening a foil packet, I reached over and pulled the tip of his dick into my mouth. His breath hitched as I ran my tongue along the underside, licking along the whole length. He gave a little moan as I took the tip into my mouth and sucked. At that point, he pulled me off, practically throwing me onto my back. Within moments, he had the condom on and had plunged into me.
I gasped with pain as he hit my uterus. He was way too long to get it all in. I suspect it was a common issue for him as he pulled back and seemed content with being only two-thirds inside me. "Close your legs," he commanded. "I want you to try a new position." I complied. He lifted his legs over mine and used his thighs to clamp mine closed around his dick. It meant the shaft was rubbing repeatedly over my clit as well as increasing the tightness around him. I have to admit that it felt quite good, especially when he sped up. The man did everything hard and fast.
My body took over, and I came with a whimper. All my earlier misgivings were swept away by a surfeit of sensation. He carried on right through my orgasm, prolonging it to the point where I almost wanted to push him off to ease the intense throbbing. Thankfully, he came, grunting loudly, then slumped onto me, heavy and immovable.
Eventually, he rolled off and pulled off the condom. Even flaccid, his dick was strangely long, to the point of being peculiar. I pulled myself up onto my elbows and jumped when I saw two pairs of eyes watching from the side of the bed. "You know the dogs are in here?" I whispered. He glanced over at them.
"Hey guys, you can get in now. We're finished." Both dogs immediately jumped onto the bed and settled themselves down. I wondered if I should offer to go back to my own bed to sleep, but Aaron had already pulled back the covers and patted the bed next to him. I slid in, finding a gap between the dogs to put my feet. He switched off the light. "Sleep well, beautiful," he murmured as he spooned his front into my back, holding me tight. The unsatisfactory sex over for the night. He seemed quite happy with it and made no further overtures.
