Always Mr. Wrong (3 page)

“The pleasure was all mine.”

I turned to unlock the door. Turning back, I
hesitated in the doorway. “Would you like to come in for a coffee?
Eleanor is at an all-night party, of course, and Olivia is at her
dad’s.”

Why did I say that? I sounded like some
silly teenager, telling my spotty boyfriend the coast was clear of
parents so we could make out on the sofa.

“Or...” He stepped forward and slid his hand
around my waist.

It happed so fast, taking me in his arms,
pulling me so tightly into his body that he almost drained me of
oxygen. My arms atomically wrapped around his neck, responding with
the same urgent kisses. Stumbling through the door, he pushed me up
against the wall, lifting my arms above my head, his head burrowing
into my neck, his hot breath on my cool skin, as he began kissing
down my neck. He released one hand and began opening the few
buttons down the front of my dress, softly grazing over my chest
and down to my already stimulated breasts. Softly he ran his tongue
around my nipple. As it became harder with desire he rolled it
between his teeth. I gasped as a hot arrow of heat shot right
through the centre of my body.

“I have to confess,” he panted. “I never came
looking for ice. I came looking for you, Clare. As soon as I saw
you at the party, I found you enchanting, a real breath of fresh
air. I knew if I didn’t take you home tonight it would be the
biggest mistake of my life.”

His mouth came down hard on mine, his tongue
exploring every crevice, every tooth he had straightened. Hormones
that had not been released for over a year pumped around me,
sending sensations of sexual pleasure to every nerve ending in my
body. Sexual thoughts, that to be honest I only had read in
erotica, spurred me on to physically carry them through. Finding
myself tugging at Guy’s clothes. Explaining in great detail what I
wanted him to do to me. And more shamefully what I wanted to do to
him.

* * * *

So there I was, straddled above Guy, riding
him as if I was in the two forty at Epsom, when my bedroom door
flew open.

“The party was...” My sister froze in the
doorway. Eyes popping out of her head like stalks.

There was no way I could stop, and I sensed
by the bucking bronco underneath me that Guy felt the same.

Let’s face it, my chances of sex at the
start of the night had been 100-1, and yet here I am on the home
stretch heading towards the finishing line.

“Get out,” I screamed.

“Oh, shit, Clare,” screamed out Eleanor,
moving a step forward into the bedroom. One more step and she would
have been standing at the side of the bed. “Is that Guy
Foreman?”

I couldn’t speak. I was just about to gallop
home. Grabbing a pillow, I hurled it at Eleanor, to which she
quickly retreated out of the room. As the door slammed closed, I
heard her say, “Dad is so going to kill you.”

I couldn’t have cared less. Arching my back
in a climax of sexual excitement, my body hot and moist, a shudder
ran from my forelocks down to my withers. Guy had just unsaddled
me.

Collapsing on top of him, satisfied and
alive, I gasped, “That was amazing!”

“It certainly was.” Taking a firm grip on my
shoulders, he turned me over onto my back and looked down at
me.

God, he looked even more breathtaking with
that after sex glow.

“Are we nuts here, Clare?”

“Maybe. I mean, I’ve just had the most
amazing sex with the man who I had an awful crush on when I was
sixteen.”

“Now that is a real passion killer. I suppose
what I meant is, sixteen years difference in our ages is a lot.
So...”

No, this couldn’t be happening. Please God
tell me I’m not just another physical conquest? Is this a courteous
way older men tell you you’re just a one-night stand?

I pushed him away, sat up in bed, drawing the
sheet tight around my nakedness. “So what? We just forget
everything that happened here tonight?” He was silent. “Well?”

“No, Clare, even after I knew that you were
Trevor’s daughter I didn’t care. All I kept thinking about was
getting to know you better, and I mean not as a friend. However, I
think Eleanor could be right. A relationship with me would affect
your whole family. Trevor is hardly going to crack open the port
and offer me a cigar and welcome the idea that I’m doing his
daughter, now is he?”

I knew Guy was right, but on the other hand I
was also a stubborn mule when told I couldn’t do something. “NO!
Guy, I’m thirty-six. A grown woman. I make my own decisions, and if
my family don’t approve they will jolly well have to live with it.
I am prepared to suffer the consequences. Are you?”

He took me in his arms. “I don’t want to end
it here, believe me. But I would never forgive myself if I put a
rift between you and your family. I’d better go before Eleanor does
something stupid like call your father.”

I could not take it all in. What exactly was
happening here? Was he going forever? Coming back tomorrow or
what?

He was just pulling back the sheet to get out
of bed when a knock came on the door. Guy jumped back under the
covers, his coffee skin almost white in fright as if my father had
magical appeared outside my bedroom door.

“Clare, it’s me again. Eleanor. I just wanted
to say I’m sorry I freaked out like that. I’ve taken some time to
think.”

Guy and I looked at each other and had to
smile. It had been no more than ten minutes tops. “Well, Rosie
talked some sense into me actually. Dad won’t kill you. And it’s no
one’s business other than yours if it makes you happy. And I want
to see you happy, too. And for the record, you certainly looked
ecstatic. Well, that’s it. I’m going to Rosie’s. I’ll see you in
the morning. Love you.”

We waited a few moments. Just as Guy was
about to speak another knock came on the door.

“Sorry, forgot. Goodnight, Doctor
Foreman.”

Guy and I stifled our laughter until we knew
Eleanor had gone for sure.

Sliding back under the covers, I ran my hand
over his thick moist chest hair. “Well, it seems Dad and Eleanor
wouldn’t care two hoots.” My hand slipped further down to his firm
stomach.

Guy took a small intake of breath as my hand
slid further down and said, “Maybe we can talk it through a little
more.” I slid down the bed and pulled the sheet over my head.

“Or maybe you can carry on doing that,” he
gasped.

* * * *

As I rushed into the kitchen, late for
meeting Guy, Olivia sat at the kitchen table, doing her
homework.

“You look pretty, Mummy. But why aren’t you
wearing your gym clothes. It’s Monday.”

“Not tonight, sweetie. I’m meeting friends
for dinner.”

I hated lying to my daughter, knowing full
well I should have worn my gym clothes before I left the house and
changed on the way at Jess’s house. My lateness had been due to
Olivia’s school Christmas pantomime rehearsals running late. Joseph
had tripped over one of the shepherds’ crooks, fell and banged his
nose on baby Jesus’ manger, causing a nosebleed and covering the
stage in blood.

Eleanor looked up from reading her magazine.
“Wow, I thought you said you were going to that bistro in
Hampstead?”

“I am. Why? Do you think it’s a little OTT?”
Looking at my reflection in the kitchen window, I must admit I
looked hot in my silk red camisole, cropped black and red jacket,
skin-tight black jeans, and the knee length boots that sent Guy
crazy with desire when I wore them. I couldn’t wait until he
unrobed me later tonight.

“It’s perfect,” said Eleanor. “But seeing you
dressed like that, he’ll want to skip the main course and go
straight for dessert.” I shot her a warning glare. Realising her
mistake she mouthed ‘sorry’.

Over the last eight weeks I had kept my love
life and my family life separate. The only people that knew about
Guy and me were Eleanor and Jess, and I intended to keep it that
way. My two nights at the gym had proved a great excuse for meeting
Guy. Well, I hardly needed Tums and Bums now. Guy was very aerobic
in the bedroom. Come to think of it, in the bathroom, lounge, and
kitchen and once in his office.

Twice a week dressed for the gym and a set of
suitable clothes in my sports bag, I would leave the house, Olivia
none the wiser. Next morning I would leave Guy’s apartment and
arrive home in plenty of time before she woke. Alternate weekends
when Phil had Olivia, Guy would come over to me. Needless to say,
there had been a few hairy moments when either my parents or my
brother David turned up unannounced, poor Guy having to hide
upstairs on one occasion. Not quite quick enough, he spent half an
hour in the cupboard under the stairs.

“Auntie Eleanor said
he
. You said
friends
.” My daughter looked at me curiously. For a moment I
wondered who the mother was and who the child was.

“Did I? Sorry, I didn’t realise.”

This was precisely why you should never lie
when your seven-years-old daughter has the perception of a
grown-up.

“Do I know this friend?” Olivia sounded
remarkably like me when she asked if she could sleep over at a
school friend’s house.

“No, it is someone I knew years ago,” I
answered honestly, feeling happy I’d not told my daughter a
barefaced lie.

Closing her schoolbook, she stood up from her
chair, a mini version of me, hands on hips and enquired. “Is he
your boyfriend?”

“Scoot,” I pointed to the kitchen door. “Give
me a kiss, and get ready for bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I don’t mind if he’s your boyfriend. Daddy
and Maria both say you should find someone before it’s too
late.”

I stood shocked that my ex-husband and his
goddess had been discussing my love life with my daughter. “Good
night, Olivia.”

She gave one of her exasperating sighs when
she knew the conversation was going no further.

“I was only saying,” and then strutted out of
the kitchen. “Bring me back some dessert, please,” she shouted as
she thumped up the stairs.

I turned to my sister, once more engrossed in
her magazine. “Eleanor, has Olivia spoken to you about Phil saying
I should get some significant other?”

“Not a sausage. The only thing she asked me
was when she was older did I think she would have boobies as big as
Maria Aphrodite. I said she was a Coleman. Coleman women had boobs
like plums, not stonking great watermelons.” She put down the
magazine. “So what’s the problem? You have Guy, so tell Phil.”

“I’m not ready yet, and to be honest, can you
imagine the laugh Phil would have when I tell him Guy is sixteen
years older than me?”

Eleanor laughed. “Yes, it would leave the
gates open for a whole host of insults.”

“Hello, only me and the cow.” David walked
through the kitchen door, balancing a large tray in one hand, with
something humungous underneath a tea towel.

Eleanor turned around. “So Victoria is
parking the car?”

“Funny,” he clipped his sister around the
ears.

Great. Now David had arrived, me dressed up
to the knockers, when he knows I go to the gym on a Monday. It was
one thing being able to deceive my seven-year-old daughter, but a
different ball game deceiving my forty-year-old brother.

“Clare, Mum said go easy on the garlic and
herbs. Marjorie gets reflux from too many herbs and spices.”

I watched as David placed the tray on the
work surface and lifted the tea towel, revealing a gigantic joint
of beef.

“Why would Mum send me beef for
Marjorie?”

“For Sunday, of course.”

“Whoops.” Eleanor slunk down in her chair and
hid behind her magazine.”

“Air head, you didn’t pass the message on,
did you?” He grabbed the magazine from Eleanor.

“Sorry, I forgot. Rosie called right after
you with some hot gossip, and it slipped my mind.”

Looking at my watch, I was now going to be
late meeting Guy at the restaurant.

“Hello,” I lifted my arms, waving them in the
air as David and Eleanor began one of their spatters. “Would
someone please explain? I’m in a hurry?”

“Okay, Okay, keep your hair on. You sound
just like Mum,” David sarcastically said. “Mum rang the library
today. Dad has been in the doldrums, missing work. Marjorie had
called that morning. She’s missing Dad. Can’t get used to working a
new way. Well, she’s worked with him for years, and we all know she
hates change. Remember when they installed computers...?”

“DAVID, I’m in a hurry! Cut to the
chase.”

“Sorry, well, Mum thought it would be nice to
ask Marjorie for Sunday lunch, but as it’s our turn and you know
what Victoria’s roasts are like...”

“Shoe and leather come to mind,” joked
Eleanor.

“Mum wants dinner here. Fine.” I could not
wait any longer for David to finish. Guy would now be waiting in
the restaurant. I picked up my bag to leave.

“Oh, and one more thing. Mum’s doing a bit of
team building. Doctor Foreman will be coming, too.”

Eleanor let out a great snort. “Well, just
when I was thinking of getting out of a boring Sunday lunch with
Marjorie, all of a sudden it’s just become exciting.”

So that was what Guy was talking about
earlier on the phone. He’d had an interesting conversation that
needed us to talk about over dinner. I actually thought it was
about the offer he’d put on the house in Hampstead, and that was
why we were having dinner there...to suss out the local
amenities.

I felt sick to my stomach, looked at my
watch.

Guy would be ordering a drink right now,
wondering where the hell I was. I’ll call him from the car, tell
him to meet at his apartment. No way could I enjoy a meal now. We
had to hatch some plan.

“I have to go. I’ll be late for the gym.”

Shit, shit, and double shit. Taken off
guard, I just blew it.