The Victoria Blisse Collection

by Victoria Blisse

  “A diet Coke please.” She smiles and he nods, walking off to the bar.

  “Are you driving?” Fiona asks her eyes already unfocused by the alcohol she has consumed.

  “Nah, I just don’t drink alcohol.” She could have said she was an alien and alcohol would make her dissolve into a pile of pink goo and she wouldn’t have received such a disbelieving look.

  “Oh.”

  “So, are you and Jamie an item then?” Graham breaks in, saving Carrie from one embarrassment and throwing her into another.

  “Well,” she begins and tries to word it right.

  “They’re fucking,” Fiona hiccups. “In the store cupboard actually.”

  Carrie’s cheeks flare even redder. She is mortified that someone saw them.

  “But are they an item?” Graham asks, smirking.

  “Yes, we are.” Jamie says as he passes behind him, putting down Carrie’s drink and sitting next to her. “Is that okay by everyone?” He looks round the table and they all look sheepish. “Good.”

  * * * *

  “Well, now I remember why I don’t go to pubs.”

  “She didn’t mean to throw up on you, I’m sure.” Jamie says, just a hint of a smirk at his lips.

  “Well, I know, but if I were at home now I’d not be smelling of sick or standing outside in cold December rain waiting for a taxi with Christmas Karaoke being sung, no, howled in the background.”

  “Those are all valid points.” Jamie wraps his arms around her and forces their lips together in a rough kiss.

  “Don’t, Jamie, you’ll end up covered in sick.”

  “Don’t care.” He whispers in her ear as he nibbles her neck. “I want you.”

  Her knees turn to jelly, but Jamie’s arms around her keep her steady.

  “Well, you can come back with me if you like.”

  “I was planning to.” He grins, slipping his hands down to her buttocks and squeezing.

  “Thanks for letting me know.” She tuts and rolls her eyes. Her body may be reacting to his caresses and nibbles but her mind is still firmly scared and pissed off after being in a room full of drunken people, one of whom threw up on her.

  “Don’t give me your cheek.” He smiles wickedly. “Or are you angling for a spanking right here in the street?” He slaps her arse and she jumps, her cheeks flashing crimson. A car horn beeps behind them. “The taxi is here.” He grins and she turns into the headlights of the black cab, looking more than a little cowed.

  Jamie holds the door open as Carrie climbs in.

  “I’m not ‘aving any drunk sicky people in my cab,” the driver snaps as Jamie closes the door.

  “Oh, it’s alright mate. She’s not drunk. She’s not even had a drop of alcohol. Someone threw up on her.”

  The driver cackles with laughter and winks into the mirror at Carrie, who bites her bottom lip and fights the instinct to flee. Jamie and the cab driver strike up a conversation and Carrie lays her head on Jamie’s shoulder and just breathes, feeling his strong arm over her. His other hand sits on her knee, but as the journey continues, the hand moves higher, crinkling up the skirt on its way. Carrie wriggles and fires a look at Jamie who just smiles and moves his hand quickly up under her skirt and rubs a finger up and down her cotton covered cunt.

  Carrie doesn’t breathe as his fingers trace the outline of her lips and then presses down just on top of her clit, all the while talking to the cab driver about the last Manchester United match. The taxi stops all too soon and Jamie removes his hand to pass a note to the driver.

  “How much do I owe you?” Carrie asks Jamie as the cab drives away.

  “Oh, I think a good hard fucking should do it.”

  “I’m not a whore!” Carrie exclaims, the emotions of the night finally making her break.

  “I know, I know,” Jamie says, following her into the foyer. “I was just joking.”

  “It wasn’t funny.” Tears streak Carrie’s face.

  Jamie’s hand lands on her arm and she shrugs it off then walks into the opening lift to the very back corner. He follows her.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hand skimming down her arm. She looks up and sighs. “It’s really scared you, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She sighs and he wraps his arms around her, cradling her body as she sobs.

  “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to be scared. I’m here, I’ll look after you.”

  “I just,” she sniffs,he elevator door opening at her floor. “I just don’t like being in a room filled with people who aren’t in control.” She walks forward, pulling her keys from her bag after wiping her tears on her sleeve.

  “They were only a bit tipsy,” Jamie replies.

  “I don’t like it,” she snaps, the door relenting and letting them in. “I know tipsy and good-willed soon turns into drunk and disorderly.”

  “Carrie, love.” He turns her into his arms and holds her close. “I will never, ever let anything bad happen to you, okay? I’ll always protect you.”

  She turns from his embrace and walks over to her wardrobe.

  “I’ve heard all that before from the man who used to hit me once he’d had a drink or two.”

  She unbuttons her blouse and lets it fall to the floor, the skirt soon follows and they both get flung into the sink. Jamie grabs Carrie by the arm, spinning her round and into his embrace.

  “I’d never hurt you,” His blue eyes burn intensely. “A little pain to heighten our pleasure, yes, but I’d never hurt you. I’d never let anyone else hurt you either.”

  “I just panic,” Carrie says, the comfort of Jamie’s arms giving her the freedom to express herself. “I just feel like that little eight year old girl covered in bruises and cowering under the covers, smelling the alcohol fumes and knowing what is coming.”

  Jamie says nothing but squeezes her tighter.

  “I know it’s silly, but I just can’t help it, I knew I shouldn’t have gone. I knew it. The smell, the noise and the drunks slurring just makes my skin crawl.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Jamie runs his fingers gently through her hair.

  “I only did it for you.” She smiles weakly. “Sorry that I’ve ruined your party.”

  “Not in the slightest,” he replies, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Facing your fears just to please me.”

  “Well, I didn’t do so well with that, did I?” Carrie giggles lightly, the wave of emotion breaking, ushering in calm.

  “You did well enough.” He smiles then presses that smile to her upturned lips.

  It was soft, and sweet, and not at all demanding and the lovemaking that blossomed was just the same. Jamie gently removed her bra and knickers as she pulled away his shirt and trousers. They rolled onto the small bed entwined in each other’s embrace, kissing and caressing, Jamie slipping inside Carrie smoothly and setting up a slow rhythm.

  Their lips meet and kiss as their bodies shiver and shudder, gently but inexorably bringing them closer and closer to orgasm.

  “So beautiful,” Jamie gasps as his orgasm breaks over him.

  “Thank you,” whispers Carrie, smiling and holding him close, “Thank you so much.”

  * * * *

  “Morning.” Carrie chirps as she walks into work, still tying on her apron.

  “Morning,” a familiar and feared voice replies. “Now get to work.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Carrie exclaims. She is still a little shy, still a little quiet but her confidence has grown in leaps and bounds over the past month with Jamie and she is no longer the nervous, timid little girl she was.

  “I’m working,” Graham hisses, “like you should be doing. Customers need serving.”

  “Where’s Jamie?” she snaps, walking over to her till, serving now, not just flipping burgers.


  “Sacked.”

  “Why?” she replies.

  “For conspiring to get a good, decent employee fired,” he spits back. “That’s me, of course.”

  “Bullshit,” Carrie hisses, typing in her security code.

  “No, I’m back, girl, and I’m in charge. Now get to work. My uncle has reinstated me after the trouble your boyfriend caused and I’m going to make this the most profitable Betta Burger branch in Britain. Now hop to it.”

  “How may I help you?” Carrie smiles at the slack-jawed youth before her.

  “Erm, bacon burger, please.” He smiles, his cheeks flushed.

  “Certainly, sir.” She smiles and repeats the order for Graham, all the time in turmoil over what she’s just heard. She wonders if Jamie is okay. She wonders how she is going to work under that bullying prat of a manager, Steve.

  Steve brushes past her, sending cold shivers up and down her spine.

  “Come on, concentrate. I can’t believe that prick let you onto the counters. After the rush you’re going right back to flipping fucking burgers, you useless waste of space.” His spittle lands in a fine mist on her ear as she takes another order, smiling through gritted teeth.

  “Oops, I slipped,” Steve exclaims as he steps on a dropped, plastic ketchup bottle, squirting it all up the back of Carrie, her trousers and her blouse. He laughs heartily and Carrie turns around, a large milkshake in her hand.

  “Oops.” She grins, flicking off the lid and chucking the bright pink contents over Steve. “I slipped too.” Before he can gather his breath she picks up the mega Betta burger off the tray and stuffs it in Steve’s mouth, still wrapped in its greaseproof paper.

  “You can stick your crappy job up your arse,” She hisses, turns on her heel and leaves.

  “I didn’t say you could go!” Steve yells at her back after spitting out the burger.

  “No, I’ve quit, you can’t tell me what to do at all, buddy. Fuck you.”

  She calmly takes off her apron and flings it on the floor of the staff room. She unlocks her locker and takes out her bag and turns around as the pink covered Steve enters the room.

  “Get back in there, you fucking idiot.”

  “No,” she replies coolly, locking her locker and throwing her bag over her shoulder.

  “Now, you stupid bitch.” He steps forward, spreading his legs wide and planting his arms either side of Carrie.

  “Did you not hear what I said?” she whispers, then lifts her knee quickly, connecting roughly with his genitals. He steps back with a groan, cupping his balls with his hands. “I said no. Now fuck off.”

  She walks away from work, her heart thumping but her head held high. No one is going to push Carrie around anymore.

  Well except for Jamie, and she enjoys that kind of bullying.

  * * * *

  It’s snowing when Carrie leaves her house, wrapped in a huge coat and carrying a brightly wrapped present in her hands. She’s not been able to get through to Jamie, he isn’t answering his phone at the flat and it seems like his mobile is switched off, too. So Carrie is going round to tell him the news. She spent the afternoon searching for a new job and found one. Every shop needs people over Christmas.

  The snow makes the world look so different. Carrie concentrates on the crunch of her shoes in the white expanse and smiles. She stood up to a bully and got a new, better job in a bookshop. It’s snowing and there is this sexy man who thinks she is beautiful waiting for her and they’re going to make sweet, kinky love. Things are good right now for Carrie and she feels like skipping through the white flakes, her heart beating joyfully as the world turns sparkly and clean before her eyes.

  She walks into his building, smiles and says hello to a student she vaguely knows. She stomps her feet on the mat, shaking soft, crusts of snow from her shoes and chuckles to herself. It’s like she’s been carrying a weight of snow, piled up on her back in a big, cold, heavy block and now it’s melting and she is shaking it off.

  She goes to the lift, but it is broken. A momentary frown and she’s off up the stairs. She rounds the last corner with a puff and a wheeze and comes to an abrupt stop. There, just outside his flat is Jamie but he’s not alone, he’s with Fiona, her blue streaked black hair instantly recognisable and she is lip-locked with him.

  “You bastard,” Carrie gasps, flinging the present to the floor. “You fucking bastard.”

  She turns and runs full pelt down the stairs, Jamie yelling her name as tears drip down her cheeks and sobs wrack her body.

  * * * *

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Jamie hisses at Fiona, “you daft bitch.”

  “What? That was only Carrie.” Fiona shrugs.

  “You know Carrie is my girlfriend.” Jamie sighs.

  “Oh,” Fiona exclaims, flipping her hair. “I thought you were just fucking. Looks like you’re a free man now, so are you going to take me back?”

  “Not in a million bloody years, Fiona, I love Carrie.” He pushes her out of the way, scoops up the dropped box and flies down the stairs. He loves her. The realisation hits with some force. Yes, he does love her and right now she hates him. Damn.

  He bowls through the double doors and out into the car park, running as fast as his legs will carry him, his breath billowing out behind him like steam from a train.

  “Carrie!” he yells as he sees her ahead of him, “Stop, Carrie, please stop.”

  He catches up with her and places a hand on her shoulder. Spinning around, she slaps him with all her strength right across his cheeks.

  “Fuck,” he exclaims rubbing at his face. “I deserve that, Carrie. I’ve been a fool.”

  “No, I’ve been the damn fool,” Carrie sobs. “I thought I meant something to you. I thought we had something special.”

  “We do!” Jamie exclaims, running his fingers through his hair, making it stand out at strange angles.

  “So, how long have you been with Fiona, too?” Carrie sneers.

  “I haven’t, well not whilst I’ve been with you, Carrie. She’s an ex, a crazy fucking ex who I bumped into this morning after I got fired. I talked to her. She acted all understanding and then just now she kissed me. I didn’t want to be kissed. I don’t want to go out with her.”

  “Pfft,” Carrie tuts rolling her eyes,

  “No, Carrie, I don’t want anyone else but you. I love you.”

  The words tumble from his lips and get whipped around in the wind with the cold, soft flakes of snow, making everything look brand new.

  Carrie looks at him and he reaches out to grasp her arm.

  “I love you,” he repeats, his breath rattling from his lungs, his icy eyes melting and crumbling under her frosty stare. A lone tear slips down his cheek and Carrie reaches out, wiping it away.

  “I love you, too,” she whispers, walking into his arms, “I love you, too.”

  They kiss, lips locked tightly in the cold. They could stay frozen together forever and a day and they would be happy. The snow swirls around their bodies as they blend and combine, the expression of love freeing them, freeing them to be totally honest with each other.

  * * * *

  “Where have you been all day?” Carrie asks after taking a warming sip of hot chocolate. Jamie sits on the sofa beside her.

  “The library,” he replies. “That’s why my phone was off.”

  Carrie nods. “I’ve quit work.”

  “You what?”

  “I’ve quit Betta Burger.” And she expands, telling Jamie exactly how she handed in her resignation.

  “Wow, I wish I’d been there to see that, but now we’re both unemployed for Christmas.”

  “No, we’re not, Open the present.”

  Jamie lifts a brow then picks the small flat box off the table, ripping off the coloured paper. Inside the box is a piece of A4 paper with a cheque clipped to it.r />
  “No way. This can’t be…”

  “It’s totally genuine. I’ve got a job selling their books and they want your sketches to place on their walls. They want to sell your work.”

  “How did they…what did you…how?” Jamie is delirious with pleasure and simple sentence structure seems to have escaped him.

  “I took the sketches I have that you’ve done of me to show him and he loved them.” She puts down her mug and lays a hand on Jamie’s arm. “He thought they were beautiful and he wants to see more. He’s just opened a café area and his walls are bare. Your paintings and sketches will be perfect.”

  “Thank you.” Jamie grins. “Thank you, so much.”

  “Well, I couldn’t leave you jobless since I got you fired in the first place.” Carrie’s face drops a little. “But it does mean I’ve sold those sketches you gave me. You’re not mad are you?”

  Jamie looks at the letter of commission before him and the cheque in the box on his knees and he grins.

  “Of course I’m not. It gives me an excuse to draw more. I’ll have to. I’ve got four walls to fill now.”

  Carrie lets out a sigh of relief and kisses his lips.

  “I can’t believe you showed those pictures to someone though.” Jamie runs his fingers through her hair. “You’re so shy.”

  “I was.” Carrie nods. “But weeks of being called beautiful, of being fucked and admired and sketched and painted has made me rediscover my confidence.” She tears up, takes a deep breath and finishes, “Your love has transformed me.”

  Jamie pulls her into a tight embrace and kisses her forehead.

  “No, Carrie, I’ve just restored you. You’ve always been beautiful and always will be.”

  “You are beautiful, too,” she sniffs, kissing his cheek, “but naughty.”

  “What?” Jamie looks confused.

  “Having your phone off all day, not telling me you’d been fired, snogging another woman…”

  “But she snogged me,” he protests.