Cold Comfort

by Isobel Hart

  “Going somewhere?”

  “No… I mean…. Um… I have to pee.” I felt embarrassed to look at him for some reason. Shy.

  “Hey,” he said, sitting up and moving behind me so my back was against his chest. It felt good. Intimate. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You fell asleep in the cab. I was worried about how much you’d drunk and wanted to make sure you weren’t sick in your sleep. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

  “I wasn’t that drunk,” I said indignantly, turning to look at him.

  “I know. It sounded like a good excuse, though,” he admitted a little sheepishly. That made me smile.

  “I really do need to pee,” I reminded him.

  “In there,” he said, pointing at a door across the room. “Will you come back to bed after?” He sounded uncharacteristically uncertain as he asked.

  “If I’m not getting in your way… stopping you from doing things?”

  “You’re not getting in my way,” he assured me softly. I nodded at him, then stood up, feeling self-conscious in my dress from the night before.

  “Have you got a t-shirt I can borrow?” I asked.

  “Sure.” He got out of bed and walked over to a chest of drawers, pulling one open and quickly choosing a black t-shirt from the top. He threw it at me, and I caught it before scurrying into the bathroom.

  The t-shirt turned out to be an early Cold Comfort one from their first album – Terrible Racket. It came nearly to my knees – further than my dress. I washed my face, removing the last of the make-up from around my eyes, and used some mouthwash I found on the side to tide me over until I could brush my teeth properly. Feeling more myself, I finally emerged.

  “Did Eddy get home okay?” I asked, remembering what had been bothering me this morning before Cat had distracted me.

  “Yeah, he came home about an hour after us. He scored himself a date. Seemed pleased as punch about it too.” He patted the bed beside him when I hesitated. “I asked my housekeeper to make us some coffee. You do drink coffee in the morning, don’t you? I thought you did, but I can change it for tea if you’d rather?”

  “I drink coffee,” I assured him. “Can’t function without it. But don’t you have lots to do? An album to write? You don’t have to look after me. I don’t even have a hangover.”

  “It’s a day off today.”

  “Oh, really?” I said, surprised. I’d heard nothing about it the day before. “Well, you’ve earned it. After that European tour you just did you must be exhausted. I was impressed you were already writing a new album. Especially when you’ve still got the American tour to do.” I curled my knees up and pulled the t-shirt over them as I perched beside him.

  “I just write when I feel the inspiration. There’s no timetable.” I got that. I did the same.

  A knock on the door had me sitting bolt upright, suddenly embarrassed to be seen in here with Cat. “Yeah, come in,” Cat rumbled beside me, and the door opened to reveal a woman around the same age as my Mama, carrying a tray. I’d seen her around the house over the last few days but hadn’t really spoken to her.

  “I took the liberty of warming some croissants to go with your coffee,” she told us as she walked over to the little table by the window and placed it down. “You don’t eat enough,” she scolded Cat.

  “If I ate everything you wanted me to, I’d be monstrously overweight,” he said with a laugh.

  “Well, you should eat more than you do. Anyway, if you want anything else just call. I’m making a roast this evening for everyone, so try and get up by then,” she said with a smile at me. I blushed at her assumption we were intimate, but given I was sat in his bed wearing one of his t-shirts it was reasonable enough to make. She closed the door with a click behind her as Cat stood and walked to the table. “Coffee?” he asked.

  “Please,” I said readily. My mouth was watering at the prospect of a croissant. I hadn’t eaten much of substance the night before, too full of vodka.

  He poured a cup for me, adding some milk when I nodded at his unspoken question, and then brought it over to me on the bed, along with one of the warm buttery croissants. “You’re the one who needs to eat more. I could hear your stomach rumbling from over by the window,” he said, smiling. I blushed but took it from him eagerly, taking a big bite. It was warm, with a pleasantly crisp outer layer but soft and buttery inside. I groaned in pleasure. Cat had returned to the table to pour his own cup, but he turned at the sound, his face hard to read but his body giving him away as he looked at me.

  He walked back towards the bed and slid in beside me. In the time it had taken for him to take two bites of his croissant, I had devoured my own and drained my coffee. I couldn’t help eyeing what was left of his. “Bite?” he asked, smiling when I nodded eagerly. I leant forward, my body brushing against his as he held it out for me, and took an enormous bite, laughing guiltily when I had to cram part of it into my mouth with my finger because I’d taken so much. He quickly put what was left of his croissant into his own mouth. “Hungry girl,” he said, rolling onto his side and propping himself up to look at me. His eyes ran over my body, now encased in his t-shirt. “You look good in that,” he said. I couldn’t think what to say now the mood seemed to have shifted from playful to something more intense. In the end I said nothing and just looked at him. “You’ve got a crumb of croissant just… there,” he said, reaching towards me and brushing something away from the corner of my mouth. Reflexively I licked my lips to remove any other crumbs, embarrassed to have him have to tell me. Instead of looking repulsed by me, his eyes darkened as he watched my tongue sweep across my mouth. My breathing caught as I looked up at his own lips. I knew he wanted to kiss me but wouldn’t unless I asked him. I hesitated.

  “Kiss me,” I heard myself say impulsively. His eyes became enormous, the blue irises dwarfed by intensely dark pupils.

  He rolled towards me, his body now pressed against my own. “Are you sure?” he asked me, his voice slightly breathless. “I’m not messing here, Delilah. Once we start this thing, there will be no stopping it. No half measures. You’ll be mine. I want to possess you, I need to possess you.”

  His words both frightened and excited me at the same time. “I don’t know,” I told him honestly. “I’m not very experienced where all that’s concerned. I just know that right now I want you to kiss me.”

  He rolled me over so I was flat on my back, my hair fanned out around me, as he lay above me, his legs to one side of my body but our chests pressed closely together. His hand stroked through my hair and down my face. “You’re remarkable, Delilah,” he told me. “So beautiful, and you don’t even seem to know it. Beautiful inside and out.” Then he leant in, before I could respond, and kissed me.

  I’d been kissed before – by Hardy, and then by Robbie – but this was different. Maybe it was all the practice he’d had, I thought cynically, but this guy was a master. His lips were light to begin with, brushing against mine teasingly until it was me who pushed forward seeking more. He responded, pressing more firmly until again I wanted to have an even greater connection. My mouth opened, and immediately I felt his tongue enter. It was intimate and erotic as we connected. He started to tease me, pulling away and nibbling at my lips, tugging with his teeth until I’d lunge at him again, needing to capture his mouth with my own. His stubble rubbed my face, and my lips became swollen and tender, but I was reluctant to break the contact for even a moment.

  A deep ache formed within me. For the first time I knew I was ready. I wanted him – all of him. He said he wanted to possess me, and I wanted to be possessed. My knickers grew damp as my desire ignited. I spread my legs to let him know what I wanted, that I needed him to touch me there. Frustratingly he only continued to kiss me. Finally, just as I thought I’d pop with pent-up desire, he pulled away. His breathing was rapid, matching my own. He touched my now swollen lips and smiled. “That was a hell of a first kiss.”

  “I want more,” I told him.

 
; “I do too,” he agreed quickly. “But I want you to be sure. I want this to be different with you. I want to take it slow. You’re not like the other girls I’ve fucked. I want you to be ready for me… for us.”

  “I need…” I stopped, lost for words as I struggled to explain.

  “I know what you need, baby,” he said, kissing me again. This time his hands ran over my body, my breasts, my stomach and finally where I wanted him. His fingers teased at the soft folds, finding and feeling the most sensitive areas as if he were mapping them. A finger slipped inside me and I gasped at the sensation. “So tight,” he breathed, pleased as he began to plunge his finger in and out. My hips rose unbidden in response, pushing for more. When his thumb returned to the sensitive area, I heard myself groan deeply whilst his finger continued to press into me relentlessly. The pressure rose within me, a force I both liked and feared as it grew in intensity. I wanted it to stop but also feared that it might. Cat’s pace ebbed and flowed, pushing me higher and then pulling back slightly, kissing me and then watching as I writhed beneath him. When a second finger joined the first I told him I couldn’t take any more. “Hold on, baby,” he whispered as he increased the pressure. I crested the wave and then fell over the top in a pulsing mass. I don’t know if I groaned or wailed or even screamed as I came. In the moments afterwards, as my mind reconnected with the world around me, I felt tearful and oddly vulnerable. I had never experienced anything like it before. Cat gathered me into his arms and held me, pressing gentle kisses to the side of my face as the sensitivity faded.

  “Thank you,” I finally managed to say.

  “Oh, babe, you have no idea how beautiful you looked just then. Thank you.”

  “I’ve never done that before,” I told him, needing to explain what it meant to me.

  “You’re a virgin?” he asked, surprised.

  “No,” I said sadly, regretting that I wasn’t. “Not a virgin, but I’ve never had an orgasm from a guy before. It was…” I was lost for words for how to describe it.

  “First of many,” he growled, with a look of male satisfaction. “How is it that you had sex and the fucker didn’t even bother to make sure you had an orgasm?” he asked.

  “I just wanted it over with,” I explained. It sounded tragically immature. “I’d promised to save myself for someone. He hurt me. I guess I wanted to hurt him back, but I actually ended up just hurting myself more.”

  “It was one time?”

  “One time.”

  “And that’s it sexually?”

  “That’s it. I’m sorry…” I began, ashamed about my lack of experience.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. I’m fucking glad. It means you’re mine. That guy just got rid of the hymen. He did the painful part for me. It means I get all your pleasure, and I mean all of it,” he promised.

  “You still want me?” I asked, surprised. “I don’t know how to please you.”

  “Oh, baby, you’ll please me. You already do,” he said, taking hold of my hand and pressing it against his erection. It was like steel. My eyes widened as I felt the girth. Robbie had been half the size. “No need to be afraid. I’ll make sure you’re ready for me,” he promised. “But for now sleep. There’s no need to rush anything.” He pulled me into his side, my head on his chest, as my eyes drooped. Together we slept until late in the afternoon.

  Chapter 18

  When we finally got up, after Cat had shown me how to please him with just my hands, I showered and dressed in my own room before walking downstairs to look for Cat and Eddy. I only found Cat in the kitchen. “Where is everyone?”

  “Eddy went to lunch a while ago with that boy he met, according to Matt, and the band are down in the studio.”

  “I thought you said it was a day off?”

  “For me. I do all the work anyway. I thought the rest of those lazy fuckers could do a bit for a change. They’re laying down some of the music for a new track, and I’ll do the vocal later.”

  “They won’t be annoyed with me, will they?”

  “Why would they be annoyed with you?”

  “For distracting you from your work.”

  “Babe, they’re just jealous as hell. When you walked downstairs last night in that dress I think every single one of them got a hard-on. I’ve never wanted to kill my bandmates before, but last night I came close. Trust me, they understand. And if I hadn’t made it clear you were off-limits, they’d have been trying their luck themselves, so you have nothing to apologise for,” he said, kissing me again. “Anyway, if you want to do something, you can come and help me write that ballad. It’s nearly there, but there’s just something not quite right still. They want to lay that one down next, but I’m still not sure it’s ready.”

  “Sure,” I agreed happily, delighted I could help him with his music. I thought the song was lovely as it was, after what we’d done the other night, but he was the rock star – what did I know?

  We walked into the music room holding hands. That little affectionate gesture, combined with how he wasn’t rushing me to have full intercourse with him, caused my heart to swell slightly in my chest. I pulled him close and kissed him, trying to convey how I appreciated what he was doing. He kissed me back with fervour, forcing himself away when the intensity became too much. “I don’t want to fuck you for the first time in here,” he said, breathing hard. “If you kiss me like that, though, I may not be able to stop myself.” I felt myself grow warm at the prospect.

  We sat down at the piano, side by side again, but this time there was no awkwardness apart from an obvious erection that was causing Cat some discomfort initially. He scowled at me when I sniggered, before adjusting himself until he was comfortable.

  He played the music first, and then accompanied it a second time with the vocals, obviously frustrated by the end. I could hear nothing wrong. It was a beautiful track that showed off the lovely range to his voice, and I knew his female fans were going to adore it. “It’s just not right,” he moaned, running a hand through his blonde locks.

  “It’s beautiful,” I insisted. “Try it again.” This time as he sang it he looked at me, and my heart swelled once more. As he approached the chorus I felt the urge to return the beautiful words, the need to sing finally overcoming the block that had stopped me for so long. My voice soared in response, in perfect harmony with his, and for the first time in a year I felt real joy.

  Together we sang the rest of the song, his eyes wide and fixed on my face as we exchanged lyrics, automatically swapping round in one verse so I sang the lines while he harmonised with me. The effect was lovely, and I knew he had found what was missing – a female harmony. On a personal level it felt amazing to be singing again, to allow myself to let go for the first time in so long. Once again I had Cat to thank for it happening. As we sang the final note, holding together until the very end, applause broke out behind us. The members of Cold Comfort, Eddy and a couple of people I didn’t recognise all crowded just inside the doorway.

  “Fuckin’ ’ell, Cat,” one of the guys I hadn’t met said the second the note had died away, “that’s a fuckin number one, I’m tellin’ you. Female harmony… you’re a fuckin’ genius. Seriously, mate, the girls are gonna cream their panties when they hear you sing that.”

  “Delilah,” Eddy said, rushing over. “You really can sing. I mean you can really sing. Why did I not know this? Why don’t you sing at uni? You’re amazing, better than amazing,” he said, hugging me. I hugged him back.

  “I don’t know. I used to sing all the time. I just haven’t felt able to for the last year or so.” I could still feel Cat looking at me. He hadn’t said anything since we’d sung together. I was worried he didn’t like it.

  “We could approach Perry or Swift or any of the fuckin’ big names to sing that with you,” the guy prattled on to Cat. “I’m tellin’ you it’s gonna be massive.”

  “I want Delilah to sing it,” Cat said. We all looked at him in shock.

  “Ah, mate, I know she’s your f
uck buddy an’ all that, an’ I’m sure you’re a real love, darlin’,” he said, looking at me patronisingly, “but who is she really?” He looked at Cat this time. “A fuckin’ groupie? She’s no one, Cat.”

  Cat was up and moving a second after he’d finished speaking, his hand gripped around the man’s throat. “Don’t you ever talk about Delilah like that again, Wayne. Don’t talk about her, don’t even look at her disrespectfully. She’s no fucking groupie, and unless she’s singing that with me, I’m not singing that song. And if you want to make a big deal of it, I’ll be finding the band a new manager.” The room was silent as we all gawped at him, chins grazing our chests. It solved the mystery of who the guy was – Wayne Parson, their manager.

  “Cat, you don’t have to…” I started, but he just grabbed my hand and pulled me out the room, past the crowd of people, my feet tripping along behind him as I tried to keep up, leaving the startled group standing where we’d left them.

  “Delilah,” I heard Eddy call after us, concerned.

  “She’ll be down for dinner,” Cat barked as he led me back up the stairs to the room we had left only an hour earlier.

  He slammed the door behind us and then pushed me against it, kissing me with even greater fervour than before. When he pulled away he was breathing as hard as I was. “Who are you?” he asked, looking deeply into my eyes. “You walk into my life, like some sort of antidote to all the poison that surrounds me, looking like an angel. And then you sing like a freaking angel too?”

  “I… I don’t know what to say. I’m nobody. Just Eddy’s friend.”

  “You’re not nobody, Delilah. You’re incredible. I can’t believe no one’s noticed you before and snatched you up. I wanted to wait… but I need to… I have to…” I could feel the hard length of him pressed against me.

  “You don’t have to wait,” I told him. “I want you too,” I reassured him, trying to sound brave as my heart thumped wildly in my chest. It was one thing to have a drunken rut with Robbie, but this… with Cat… this was quite different.