Dark

by Rachel Harley

  Carter’s eyes soften at the emotion in my words, at the evident love that’s marbled into my bones for Justin Walker and he smiles softly.

  ‘I’d really like to get to know him better,’ he says quietly, waving away a buzzing fly from Dave’s twitching ears. ‘I’ve never met anyone as altruistic in my life. I’ve started to read his book.’

  Millions of people have read Justin’s book – it shot to the top of the New York Times Bestseller List and stayed there for thirteen weeks. Written by a talented ghost author, it’s funny, heart-breaking, inspiring and is the story of one man’s struggle to survive. If you didn’t love Justin Walker before you read his book, you were a lost cause afterwards.

  ‘Meeting Justin and Ellen was the most incredible thing that had ever happened to me, Carter,’ I say, seeing him nod, but then his eyes widen, his pupils blowing out when he hears my next words. ‘Until I met you…’ I whisper.

  I shouldn’t have said it. I have no idea why I did, my mouth opened and it just came out. My stupid soul is clearly desperate to tell Carter Jackson that it’s fallen so hard for him that there’s no way back for me but it’s too much. Far too much. I might as well have just told him that I’m in love with him.

  As the woodland thins, I can see the field that Tracey mentioned a few hundred yards ahead. I turn to look at Carter. He’s struggling. There’s another one of those silent wars being waged in his mind, I can see him battling with himself and he’s got that look again. As though he wants to tell me something, but he can’t.

  I don’t give him the chance to. I don’t want to hear him tell me that I shouldn’t be saying things like that to him, that we’re having fun and enjoying each other’s company and bodies, but that this is nothing serious. How can it be? How can you be serious after only a few days, know without a doubt that you’ve met the only person on the planet that you ever want to be with. It’s not possible.

  Yes. It is. All you need to do is look at Jus and Ellen.

  Shit. Yeah, okay. I’ll have that, how can I not? I’ve got eyes and Ellen didn’t lie to me when she told me about the night they met. Justin telling her that he’d fallen for her, just a few hours after they’d first got together. And – three years later, they’re so close they’re almost one being, one entity. They’re hardly apart and when they’re in the same room, their devotion to each other is electrifying.

  But – Justin told Ellen he was in love with her before they’d even kissed. I shove that away, I don’t want to pick that apart now, what it means, for me. I beam a wide smile at Carter, painting it on, but this conversation has gone far enough and I’ve already dropped myself in a large bucket of embarrassment. It hasn’t escaped my notice that he’s said nothing in response to my quiet revelation as to how I feel about him.

  ‘Gallop field approaching!’ I say brightly. ‘You up for this?’

  He gives me a smile. I see a thread of relief in it, that I’ve changed the subject and I feel a strange pang of loss.

  ‘You bet!’ he says, gathering his reins and sitting up from the cowboy slouch he’s been in for the last twenty minutes. I’m not going to embarrass myself further by asking him if he can cope with a flat out gallop – he’s far more experienced than I am and I don’t want to insult him.

  As we come out of the trees and I see the space in front of us, my heart jogs in my chest, a combination of excitement, and a thread of nerves. I can ride a horse at speed, but this horse is new to me and, although I trust Tracey implicitly in what she told me about Nelson, his temperament, training and character, riding a horse at a flat out gallop when you don’t know the animal at all is a tad irresponsible. I don’t care though, I’m doing this.

  The field is vast, entirely flat and the grass short. I can see post and rail fencing, what looks like about a mile in front of me, so small I can hardly make it out. Gathering up my own reins and waking Nelson up from the light doze he’s been in since I climbed on his back I cock a brow at Carter.

  ‘On the count of three?’ I say and he blinds me with a smile, leaning over Dave’s neck slightly.

  ‘One, two…’ I start, but before I can get three out of my mouth Carter, the cheating git, digs his heels into Dave’s sides and he’s exploded away from us, no transitions at all. My mouth pops open at his audacity but I don’t hesitate. He’s only got a couple of seconds headstart.

  ‘Carter!’ I yell, digging my own heels into Nelson’s sides and he responds immediately. Fuck, it’s like driving a Ferarri, the acceleration is incredible, his haunches bunching and tucking as he explodes forward. I drop over his neck, rising out of the saddle like a jockey and bearing all my weight in my heels as he pours on the speed, my eyes watering at the soft summer wind.

  I can see Carter and Dave up ahead, Dave’s stupidly long legs flinging themselves everywhere as he goes for it hell for leather, but he’s a big lad and he’s carrying over six feet of packed muscle. Super-fit Nelson has reached them within the next six strides and despite Carter giving it everything he has, urging Dave on and on, we fly past them in a ginger blur.

  ‘Laters… baby!’ I shout, using a line from one of my favourite films as we leave Carter and his mount in our dust. Jesus Christ, this horse is the most amazing, the most wonderful…’ My thoughts are scrambled with adrenaline which floods madly around my body from my thundering heart, this is such a rush! As I see the fencing getting larger, I tweak the reins, bringing Nelson down to a canter and then a trot, sitting up and taking a deep breath.

  I glance behind me and it looks as though poor Dave gave up the ghost a hundred yards back. As I reach the fencing I turn, watching them approach. Dave’s legs are lolloping now, his coat gleaming with white froth, the poor creature’s done in. Nelson has hardly broken a sweat, but then, he’s an athlete in his prime. Dave’s virtually an equine pensioner.

  Carter tugs the hat from his head as he approaches, swiping his arm across his sweaty forehead. He grins at me as he gets close enough to speak to.

  ‘So, you cheated, and we still beat you!’ I taunt playfully and he rolls his eyes.

  ‘Be fair? Look what you’re riding! That boy’s incredible,’ he says. ‘I wonder how much he cost?’

  I turn as they reach us, Dave coming to a standstill and reaching down to snatch a few mouthfuls of grass.

  ‘I have no idea and to be honest, Carter, I don’t want to know,’ I say. ‘It will no doubt boggle my brain. Justin and Ellen bought my Mini for my seventeenth, and driving lessons.’ I shake my head. ‘That’s Justin though, and Dan, his dad. You’ll meet him at the meal on Saturday,’

  We say nothing more as we walk slowly back to the yard, feet out of the stirrups and both of us flopped in the saddle. I need a cold shower, especially with what I’ve got planned tonight.

  I’ve made my mind up – I don’t want to wait any more. I know he wants to take things slowly, but there’s only so often we can get each other off with our fingers and our mouths. I want more. I want to feel him inside me, sparking feelings that I know I haven’t experienced yet. I can feel them, deeply buried, waiting. Waiting for his touch to ignite them, set them off like the powerful fireworks I know they are.

  We can take it slow and I’ll try not to wince, but I can’t be without him any longer. I want him to make me a woman and I want him to do it tonight.

  The clop of hooves as we get back to the yard bring Tracey and one of her grooms out of the barn and she stands, hands on hips, squinting up at us in the sunlight.

  ‘Good time?’ she asks, but I really don’t know why. Our faces must say it all. Carter slips quickly from Dave’s back, running the stirrups up the leathers, loosening his girth and I see Tracey’s eyes heat with approval. He moves to Dave’s head and strokes his curling moustache.

  ‘He’s amazing Tracey. Thanks for letting me ride him, it was a complete privilege,’ he says, his voice low and she smiles, coming over to take his reins.

  ‘More than welcome. He misses being ridden, and there’s no way that
Bill’s back could risk it yet.’ A pause whilst she considers Carter for a moment. ‘Take him out whenever you want – you don’t have to come and ask. I’ll show you where his tack’s kept.’

  I slide from Nelson, doing the same that Carter’s done with his girth and stirrups, turning to his head and kissing his nose. I meet Tracey’s eyes.

  ‘Thanks so much, you’re really kind.’

  She rolls her eyes. ‘Give over. You’re helping me out, actually. None of the grooms are strong enough to handle Dave and getting out regularly will do him good. He’s good in the school as well, Carter.’ She goes to take Nelson’s reins from me.

  ‘These two need cold hosing – you’re welcome to do it, if you wish, but I’m sure you’ve both got better things to do?’ She gives me an impish half smile and I feel my face heat. Impulsively, I lean forward and hug her.

  ‘Thanks Trace,’ I whisper and she gives me a long squeeze. She turns and picks up Carter’s jeans, which are folded on an upturned bucket at the side.

  ‘Carter, you may as well keep those jods, if you’re going to ride him again. Bill’s got loads, not that he’s wearing any of them.’ She smiles and hands the jeans over and he thanks her again, returning the velvet hat.

  ‘See you soon,’ she says, turning away with a wave.

  Carter takes my hand in his, intertwining our fingers again as we wander over to his Audi. He says nothing as we walk slowly but when I squeeze his fingers, he turns to me with a smile. His face is flushed and his eyes bright, such an incredible greeny blue in the sunlight.

  ‘I really enjoyed that,’ he says as he reaches the car, leaning up against it and pulling me into him. I resist the urge to drag my hand up the front of his stupidly tight jodhpurs.

  Some men can get away with wearing jods – professional showjumpers for example, but a man can only carry them off and look hot if he has strong, muscular legs. Novice male riders in brand new jodhpurs look ridiculous and the opposite of hot, but Carter Jackson slots neatly into the professional showjumper category. If I start stroking his cock through the clinging material, we aren’t going to make it out of the car park.

  Besides, we have all night and I imagine the next hours gleefully. I can’t wait to tell him that I’m ready to go all the way. I’ve never been so excited about anything, I feel like a child on Christmas Eve for the very first time in my life. Christmas Eve never meant anything to me at all when I was a child. Whatever charity gift I was given would be broken or stolen from me by Boxing Day anyway. There was never anything to get excited about.

  I lock my arms around his neck and kiss his chin. He’s sweaty too, and I run my hands up the front of his forest green knitwear. I want to see his phoenix again. I’ve never been into body art, although I really like some of Diane’s tats and I’ve certainly never wanted to get one myself. Seeing Carter’s incredibly inked bird has changed my mind. I’m not sure I’d have the bottle to have one the same size, it’s a good eighteen inches long from beak to tail-tip, but I think I might like a smaller one. I think I even want a phoenix. He said that it was symbolic to him, but that’s all he said, leaving me to glean as a result that the phoenix is him, and he’s risen from the ashes. Of what? I don’t know and he’s obviously not ready to tell me just yet.

  The phoenix could also be me. That’s precisely what I’ve done, risen from the burning ashes of my former life. Pulled myself out of homelessness and poverty, with a lot of help, of course, but I have arisen. Maybe I’ll talk to Carter about it, see what his thoughts are. If I just rock up one day with an identical tattoo he might freak out and run a mile.

  ‘Glad you enjoyed it.’ I give him a gentle kiss and my guts throb. ‘Shall we go home?’ I tip a brow and a small smile at him and he glances at his watch. Before I even get a good look at it, I can see it’s a Rolex. I wonder briefly what his family does for a living, the car, the house he lives in, they’re obviously stupidly wealthy. I make a mental note to ask him later.

  My exciting plans for the night ahead start to collapse like a house of cards, though, when I see the look that flits across his eyes as he sees what time it is and he drops his arm almost wearily. He leans his forehead against mine and closes his eyes for a beat.

  ‘Pearl, I can’t see you tonight,’ he murmurs, his gaze searching for a moment. ‘I’m so sorry, I should have told you earlier.’ He shakes his head in annoyance. ‘It’s my own fault – I have to represent my father at a function tonight, that’s being held at the Mercure. It’s a fundraiser and award ceremony. His firm has been nominated for an award and someone has to attend.’

  My subconscious is having a proper tantrum at this news, and I crease with disappointment as I realise that him taking my virginity isn’t going to happen tonight after all. Shit.

  ‘Because I didn’t go home and Philip had to come to Liverpool, he’s had to juggle his other commitments and he can’t make tonight. As it’s effectively my fault, I’ve no choice but to go in his place.’ He sighs, kissing me gently. ‘It’s the last thing that I want to do, believe me, baby…’

  I lean into him, wrapping my arms around his back and holding him tightly, my head on his chest. Foiled again. Oh well, I probably should be waiting a while longer anyway – I might freak him out if I demand that he fucks me. He might think I’m desperate.

  You are desperate, moron.

  ‘If there was any way I could swerve this, Pearl, believe me…’ he presses and I realise that I haven’t said anything, just laid my head on his chest in disappointment. I’m making him feel terrible here and ultimately, this is my fault, not his. If he hadn’t met and snogged the life out of me in Obsidian, none of this would be happening.

  I grin up at him. ‘Text me when you’re there? I could maybe help with the boredom aspect…’ I say silkily and his eyes slide shut.

  ‘Fuck, will you stop saying stuff like that? Seriously, I’m struggling like hell not to throw you into the front of my car and fuck the living daylights out of you,’ he growls and my mouth pops open, my lips curving into a smile. He’s just as desperate as I am.

  ‘Well, hold that thought,’ I whisper, stroking my hand tantalisingly up the front of his now packed jods and he groans, pushing me gently away from him.

  ‘Get in the car, for God’s sake, before I finally lose it,’ he mutters, raking a hand through his flattened curls and shooting me a scorching look as he makes his own way round to the driver’s seat.

  We climb in the car, put on our belts and there’s silence for a while as he drives us back to Liverpool.

  ‘Will I see you tomorrow,’ I ask eventually in a small voice. I’m working during the day and he no doubt has Uni, if he has his finals soon, but if I can’t have tonight with him, then I need some confirmation that I’ll see him tomorrow. He looks over at me, his gaze open and clear.

  ‘I’ve got a lecture I can’t miss in the morning, and a paper to write, but yeah, absolutely. I’ll meet you at The Guardian at teatime?’

  I grin at him. That’ll do me. I realise that he didn’t reply to my suggestion that I sext him tonight. That’s also good, because that’s exactly what I’m going to do to him. If I can’t be with him, kissing and touching him, then that’s the next best thing. I might be really bold and daring and get myself off on what he’s written.

  He might not write anything! It’s hardly appropriate to expect him to talk dirty to you via text when he’s at an awards ceremony!

  So what? I don’t give a fuck and I don’t think that he will either.

  Within forty five minutes, due to the build-up of teatime traffic, we’re back at mine and he pulls the car up the driveway, reversing and pointing it back down again before switching off the engine. He pops his belt, which is a good sign. He’s not going anywhere yet. I do the same and we sit, just gazing at each other.

  My blood starts to sing in my veins as I look at the man in front of me. I will never tire of staring at his flawless face. Although neither of us say a word, his lips part and he smiles almo
st shyly as he picks my hand up, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it gently. He looks down at my knuckles, chewing his lip and I get that feeling again, the feeling that he’s about to say something. Or trying to, anyway.

  ‘Pearl, I…’

  I wait, holding my breath and crossing my fingers in my mind.

  Really? You’re thinking he’s about to tell you that he loves you? Dream on, dreamer…

  Indeed. But a girl can always hope. He turns to me now, hesitating again and opening and shutting his mouth before giving me a soft smile.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he says, and I sag inside with disappointment. In a way, I suppose I should be grateful. It might be the opposite of I love you – it might be him sitting there, screwing himself up to tell me that he wants to slow things down, has other shit going on and it’s all too much.

  ‘Have a good night, Carter,’ I say, leaning forward and joining our mouths softly. It’s a chaste kiss, I keep my tongue firmly in my mouth as my lips move slowly against his. He moans, leaning into me and wrapping his arms around me, his lips breaking away and connecting every few seconds. I long to French kiss him, but he has to leave. He has to no doubt change into something like a fucking Tux and I clench my eyes shut, realising how incredibly hot he’s going to look. At a flaming award ceremony, surrounded by rich, beautiful women.

  Carter feels my mouth screw up like a cat’s arse at the thought and he pulls his head back.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I mutter, dropping my eyes.

  ‘Nah. Pearl.’ He tips my chin up. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Are you going to this shindig on your own?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll be sitting at a huge round table, ignoring everyone else and staring at my phone…’ he raises a burnished brow at me. ‘At least, that’s what I hope I’m going to be doing, if you come through with your promise, that is…’

  His words are enough, at least for now.

  He’s not interested in anyone else. He only sees me.