I was still obsessing about that one double bed. Nish hadn’t even glanced at it. But then he’d booked the apartment so knew what he was getting. I hadn’t even thought to ask if there’d be two rooms. Of course it would have been much cheaper for him to get this single room apartment, and given he was having to pay for everything this whole holiday including the flights, the transfers, the lift tickets and the meals, I couldn’t exactly expect him to pay double for a larger flat as well.
He was on a right high. He danced me down the street through the still silently falling flakes of snow, back to the block where our flat was, twirling me around and singing, “I’m singing in the snow, I’m singing in the snow, what a glorious feeling – I’m ha-a-ppy now!” It was more like being with Quinn than Nish. That’s the sort of thing he would do… And I thought, yes, he is happy again, isn’t he? He’s moving out of the worst stage of his bereavement. He’s coming to terms with his family. He’s finally well. He’s feeling strong. He’s been taken back on as the Reserve Driver for the next season. He’s got his direction back, his ambitions back, his life back. I smiled at him. It was nice to see him so joyous.
Back in the flat we each went for a shower in turn. Me first. Then I sat on the bed in a tee-shirt flicking through the TV channels with the remote. They were all in German or French, so it didn’t get me very far. Nish came out dressed in a pair of silk boxers, rubbing at his hair with a towel. I glanced at him. If I’d thought he looked fit before, he’d now done so much work he looked just like a sculpted Greek statue. Every muscle outlined.
“You’re looking in good condition,” I commented, flicking off the TV.
He threw himself down on the settee, stretched and yawned. “Yeah, however well you manage to motivate yourself, there’s no comparison to the effort you put in when you have a Nazi like Niall breathing down your neck. Sometimes I think I might as well have just gone the whole hog and joined the Israeli Army instead. I’m sure it would have been easier!”
“They wouldn’t have you,” I pointed out pragmatically. “Too much Islamic blood for them… And certainly not if you’re going to mention pig meat in the same sentence!”
He gave a slight laugh. He still didn’t really like his Pakistani heritage being referred to, but I figured that he’d have to get used to it. Since the kidnapping, he always got asked about it in every media appearance. They were shoving him in front of the cameras and into the magazines in the run up to the new season and referring to him as the ‘next Senna’ – so no pressure there then.
I got off the bed and walked towards him. I’d made my decision. Better get it over and done with. I knelt down on the settee, straddling his lap, put a hand on either shoulder pressing him back against the cushions behind and kissed him briefly on the lips. Then I sat back down on him and looked him in the eye. “In case you’re wondering. This is me making a pass at you. But you’re allowed to say no.”
He stared at me for a moment. Then his eyes crinkled up humorously. “Am I? That’s very magnanimous of you!”
“What does ‘magnanimous’ mean?” I asked with a suspicious frown.
He laughed. “Never mind Eve. It was kind of you to indicate that I was allowed to turn you down – takes the pressure off somewhat…”
He was teasing me rotten. I knew that. “Bit sudden?” I hazarded.
He grinned. “Bit out the blue. What are you going to do to persuade me?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He was determined to have a bit of fun with me, I could see that. But I wasn’t sure how to extricate myself now. I reached down to the hem of my tee-shirt and pulled it off and tossed it to one side. Now I was in just my knickers.
He was obviously finding it hard not to subside into the giggles. He rested his hands on either side of my waist and looked me up and down. Then he said, “You know, you are just no good at flirting, are you? You just can’t send out any submissive signals, can you?”
I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Girls always tip their heads on one side when they talk to a man. Haven’t you noticed that?”
I stared at him.
“There, you’re doing it now. You just look straight at everyone, directly in the eye. Not a head tip in sight. That’s why men find you confrontational. You square up to them.”
“What the hell difference would a head tip make?” I demanded.
He smiled. “It’s a sign of submission. Like dogs do. Bitches get down lower than the dogs when they meet them, and so does any dog lower in the pack ranking. That’s what bowing and curtseying is about. But women head tip as a matter of course. You watch out for it. Now I’ve alerted you to it, you’ll see it everywhere…”
I digested this. “Are you serious?”
He grinned. “Yeah – it’s basic human behavioural psychology. Only the really dominant females don’t head tip.”
I stared at him.
“Only person I’ve ever seen you do it to, is Quinn,” he informed me.
“Quinn!” I was appalled. “You’re kidding me?”
He looked amused. “You quite often do it to him actually.”
“Oh my God…” I sat back and stared at him. “Anyone else?”
He frowned and screened his memory back. Then he nodded. “Yeah, a couple of times I’ve seen you do it to that F1 Stox World Champion guy.”
“Rob?” I interpreted in even more appalled tones. “That’s terrible. I’m going to have to stop that straight off. Rob! I’m going to have to drive against him sometime! I can’t be sending out submission signals before I even get on the track!”
I got off his lap, reached for my discarded tee-shirt and put it on. “Quinn? Rob?” I muttered in dire tones to myself.
“Is that it?” He inquired with a wry laugh. “Was that the entire extent of the seduction scene?”
I glanced back at him. “You clearly weren’t interested. Just thought it was highly hilarious. That’s ok! I just thought I’d better get it over and done with…”
“Over and done with..?” He echoed.
“You know – just the one bed an’ all that. I couldn’t face having to wonder all week when you were going to make a move on me.”
“Right…” He drawled ironically. “You make the whole thing sound so flattering…”
Now it was my turn to stretch and yawn. I smiled back at him. “So now we can just settle down for the week can’t we?”
He stood up and walked towards me, caught me by the waist and pulled me into him. “Who says I wasn’t interested?” He looked down at me, his dark eyes glinting and he put a hand in the small of my back and pulled me even harder against him. I could feel then what he meant. He was very hard indeed. “Still up for it?” He asked with a smile.
“Well, you certainly are – very up indeed,” I teased. Too late to go back now. I took my tee-shirt off again and threw it onto the bed.
This time his breathing changed as he looked down at me. I reached up and put my hands around his head and pulled his head down to mine. And then he gasped as I ran a finger lightly along the whole length of it through the silk of his underwear, feeling the ringed ridges under my touch. And as he gasped, I shoved my tongue into his mouth and snogged him for all he was worth. We shed the last couple of items and he was nearly frantic with it, pushing me back down on the bed and running his hands all over me.
“You’re so white, you’re like a bottle of milk,” he marvelled. “Your nipples are like those pink petal shells on the beach.”
I recalled that his last girlfriend had been Bajan, so probably really dark skinned.
He went for it almost immediately, but I was well ready this time and it just felt good. He was yelling and groaning so much when he came that I nearly got the giggles. He jerked and jerked and flopped on me and lay almost motionless for a minute like his mind had gone completely blank. I tried not to show it, but finally I couldn’t help it. I shoved a fist in my mouth and bit it, but I couldn’t hold it back. I started howling wit
h laughter.
“Ow, what’s so funny?” Nish was offended. Then, “Don’t laugh Eve, ow! You’re squeezing me out!”
He made a rapid dive for the box of tissues on the cabinet by the bed and tossed a couple to me before sitting on the edge of the bed to sort himself out. He reached for his boxers and pulled them back on. I didn’t bother to cover up. I lay on my side, head propped up on one hand, and watched him. He kept his back turned.
“What was so funny?” He asked sulkily.
I reached out a hand and trailed a finger down his broad, and now extremely muscular back. He twitched a shoulder.
“Sometimes men seem so absurd,” I said. “It just makes me laugh, all the noise they make. It sounds like they’re being tortured.”
He glanced briefly sideways at me. “You don’t sound that impressed by my performance,” he observed grumpily.
“What? You want marks out of ten?” I teased.
He glowered at me.
“Two,” I said brutally.
He stared at me. “Two? Now come on Eve! What was so terrible about that? I lasted for ages, didn’t I?”
“It’s not about ‘lasting’, Nish,” I told him.
He looked crossly at me. “I thought it was. I thought the longer you went for, the better it was for the girl…”
“Nah,” I informed him. “If you bang away for ages you’re more likely just to make her sore!”
I stroked his arm gently. I didn’t want to upset him or get into an argument. It was he that had started going on about his performance, not me. He shook my hand off and then he threw himself suddenly down on the bed beside me. “You’re so annoying, Eve,” he complained. “I can’t even have sex with you like a normal girl!”
“How does a normal girl have sex with you?” I asked mildly.
He darted me a sideways look. “Well – submissively I suppose,” he admitted.
“And if they’re dutifully submissive,” I queried, “Do you make a bit more effort to take the time to make them come?”
He stared at me bewildered. “You just said it wasn’t about the amount of time I kept it going for!”
I looked intently at him. “Have you ever seen a girl having an orgasm? Do you know what an orgasm looks like?”
He looked offended. “What are you implying?”
“Nothing as such,” I said patiently. “I’m just trying to establish what you know about girls and orgasms, because you seem to be missing some vital factors in all this…”
He stared resentfully at me.
“How many girlfriends have you had?” I asked.
He must have felt on safer ground, because he answered fairly openly. “Only three that you could define as proper ‘girlfriends’ since I left school really. A couple at college and then Belle…”
Belle was the Bajan model. (I’d been massively disappointed when I’d found out that women from Barbados weren’t called ‘Barbies’…but hey, you win some, you lose some.)
“…but I’ve had quite a few – well, you know – one offs…” He was confessing a bit shame-facedly. “I’m just so busy all the time! You try doing first ‘A’ levels and then a degree while trying to work your way up through the GP3 and then the GP2 circuit!” He defended himself with unnecessary energy since I was so used to Quinn’s proclivities that Nish’s existence seemed positively monk-like by comparison. “Most girls can’t cope with my schedule and get whiney, so I didn’t bother much with long term relationships,” he admitted.
While he talked, I stroked him soothingly. He began to relax and stretch out in an inviting way to receive more of the same.
“I don’t think you know the first thing about women’s bodies,” I said at last. “If you can’t tell me how to give a woman an orgasm, and don’t even know what one looks like, I figure you haven’t ever seen one…”
I could see him getting all defensive again, darting a resentful look at me.
“Tomorrow,” I suggested. “We’ll have a go shall we? A master class..? So the next girlfriend you get is completely wowed by your prowess?”
He looked a bit worried.
“Don’t look so anxious,” I said, smiling at him and leaning forward to kiss him. “It’ll be fun. And how else are you going to learn? You don’t want any derogatory kiss and tell stories in the newspapers once you’re a famous Formula One Champion do you? Better learn off me. I won’t tell anyone…”
Next morning I reached over and woke him up by stroking him all over. When I touched him there he went so hard so immediately, I figured we might as well start our first lesson straight out.
“It’s absolutely everything you do before the main event,” I explained. “Every touch, every look. Women are very tactile, they like to be stroked not grabbed. Feather light, not jabbed. The nipples are pretty much a fast track connection to down there, so start out there – it gets it ready…”
I had been so ready for it last night that it had been pretty frustrating, but I hadn’t wanted to wait till he’d gone to sleep to finish myself off because the more gagging for it that I was, the easier he’d get a result when he tried again. Now his hand touching me felt achingly exquisite and his lips on my breasts were sending fiery trails through me, but he couldn’t get the hang of it. He was clumsy, he pressed too hard. He couldn’t find the right spot for long. I didn’t want him to go off the boil or get to feel it was too onerous a task, so I set to work on him instead and then told him to just go for it.
“So did you come?” He asked afterwards. “Is that why you got me to enter you?”
I shook my head. Now I was really, really frustrated. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. I needed to let it build up so it would just explode when he touched me, so he could get his reward. I leapt out of bed. “Skiing Nish! Look at the sunshine!”
I glanced back at him. “We’ll try again tonight. You’re not going to get it just like that you know. We’ll have to have a few goes…”
“I had no idea it was all so complicated!” He complained irritably.
“It’ll be worth it Nish,” I encouraged him. “When you can satisfy a girl you’ll feel really good about yourself, and your girlfriends will think you’re bloody amazing – I promise you…”
Nish was a brilliant skier. I’d expected he might be. His father had put him on skis for the first time when he was three, he told me. I had to suppress my jealousy. People have such different lives, don’t they?
“How about snowboarding?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Never fancied it – I’m afraid I’m a complete speed junky!”
Now there was a surprise…
We stopped round the back of a picturesque chalet café high up on one of the slopes, and he suddenly got hold of my waist and pushed me back against the wooden wall outside and kissed me. His hand worked up under my top and cupped one breast. I was so ready for it, I wouldn’t have minded if he’d just jammed me against the wall and taken me there and then. I put my arms around his neck and responded with intensity. He pulled away and his dark eyes smiled down at me. He was beginning to enjoy this. That was a good sign.
Another near miss that night. I was trying to make it exciting for him so he wouldn’t dwell on the complete failure in the main aim. When he’d just been too heavy handed again and kinda switched it off for me, I just did everything I could possibly think of that would be amazing for him and then when he was just begging for mercy I got him to shove it in and he thrust so hard and for so long that it did sort of almost finish me off, so at least I could sleep after.
Next morning, I gave him a break. He didn’t make a move on me, so I left him to build up a head of steam for tonight.
I was sitting in the sun on a balcony outside another café waiting for Nish to finish a set of runs when my phone rang. I pulled it out – it was Mr. Heskett.
“How’s it going?” He asked cheerfully,
“Yeah, really good,” I agreed. “I’m keeping him happy as per orders. In fact he seems on top of
the world at the moment…” I tried not to get the giggles at the thought of the primary way I was keeping him happy.
“And his fitness levels?” Heskett inquired.
“Yeah, really good. No complaints in that department…” I tried to suppress my hilarity.
“Anything else to report?” He asked.
“He’s scaring me rotten on black runs,” I said with a groan. “He just heads at the un-mogulled ones and goes straight down, head first, crouched like a jockey, at goodness knows how many miles per hour. I’m having kittens! I keep imagining him with a broken neck or something. I’m just sitting this one out right now, my nerves wouldn’t take it!”
“Ah, don’t try and stop him,” Heskett said comfortingly. “He’d be no use to us if he’d lost his taste for speed, would he?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “See your point…”
“So he’s nowhere near you at the moment?” Heskett established.
“Nope…” I confirmed.
“Well, I shouldn’t really tell you this but…no,” he caught himself up short. “No, I mustn’t tell you. No, not till…”
“What?” I demanded. “You’ll have to tell me now, you can’t tantalise me like that!”
“Well if I do, you mustn’t let onto Gilbraith by even the slightest sign until his Manager’s rung him,” Heskett bargained.
“How soon will that be?” I enquired. I wasn’t sure if I’d manage not to give whatever it was away.
“Later today hopefully.”
The Way Back (Not Quite Eden Book 6) Page 21
