Driven Wild (12 page)

“No,” he said quickly. “It’s just the city air. The pollution, being in the car and exhaust fumes. When I lived in Switzerland, in the mountains, it rarely troubled me.”

“It’s where I live,” she said softly.

“Don’t worry,” he said, squeezing her hand. “As long as we take some time at the weekends to get out of the city, I’ll be fine.”

Leah wasn’t convinced by anything Rick was telling her. Why had he thought they were being followed?

Italy
.

It remained the elusive part of his life and she wondered yet again if it explained many things. Not just the nightmares, but his deteriorating asthma. Stress made it worse, she knew it did, but he wouldn’t be told. As soon as he moved the car off, they slipped back into their usual functions. He drove her, kept her safe, and she let him take the lead. She needed him, but it looked increasingly like he needed her just as much.

Chapter Eight

Jane’s hair made Leah envious. Blond. That one word summed up her jealousy. Her eyes were light blue too, in contrast to Leah’s brown ones. Jane told her friend it had to do with a Swedish grandparent. Leah stared at the long yellow hair and imagined it on her head. Would Rick like her with blond hair?

The friends sat across the table from each other, fingering their buttered crumpets and wondering how to fill the silence. There had been a time when it was easy to think of something to talk about. Friends since childhood, they had survived the separation of different schools and universities. Their companionship had been a result of their mothers’ friendship. Family friends with young daughters, who liked to meet up and gossip. The daughters stayed friends, while the mothers drifted apart following Leah’s mother’s departure to Italy.

“You’ve changed,” blurted out Jane. “I mean that nicely,” she added, seeing Leah’s surprised expression.

“In what way?” asked Leah, wondering what had caused Jane to make her statement. She knew she had—was her relationship with Rick visible to the outside world? They hadn’t told anyone.

“It’s like when you started university. I really thought you would blow it back then. You pulled your socks up and proved your dad wrong. But you’ve always enjoyed the nightlife, going out, partying.”

“Habits change,” said Leah with a shrug.

“I was really worried about you, after your father died. You were going downhill and all that responsibility thrown on your shoulders. Wills, probate, money. I think you handled it well, except…”

“What?”

“That wild child came back. Drinking; seriously, you can knock them back. And I feared you might get into drugs.”

“You’ve said I’ve changed. I take it you don’t think that anymore?”

“No,” said Jane, shaking her head. She leaned forward. “Are you in a relationship, because you have that glow about you for the last few months and you’ve stopped going out with the others. They’re gossiping like crazy.”

Leah smiled. There was little point in trying to hide things from Jane. She wiped a smear of hot butter off her lips. “Truth be told, I do have a boyfriend.”

“I knew it!” said Jane gleefully. “Tell. You have to tell me.”

Leah took a deep breath. “It’s Rick.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “Your chauffeur,” she said loudly.

About them were other diners, enjoying a late breakfast in the city centre restaurant. Leah put her fingers to her lips. “Ssssh.”

“Oh, come on. I mean he is gorgeous, sexy looking. Dark and broody too. Have you, you know…”

“Jane!” shrilled Leah under her breath. “None of your business.”

“You have,” said Jane. “You’ve gone bright red.”

Leah sighed. “Alright. He lives with me.”

“Oh. My. God,” said Jane. “For how long?”

Leah let the words tumble out. Jane knew about the licence ban and the reason why she had a driver, but Leah kept her mouth shut about the spankings.

“I fancied him from the first time I met him. When Daddy hired him to drive me. But Rick said I was too young, or not ready, and then he left for a different job. I never stopped thinking about him.”

“So you hired him back.”

“It is just one big coincidence. He came back and I needed a driver, and there he was on my doorstep. This time things are different. He feels the same way as I do and… we’re together.” She ended lamely.

“What happens when your ban is finished?”

“I don’t know,” said Leah honestly. She fingered her cup and saucer, avoiding Jane’s inquisitive blue eyes. Confessing to the relationship had eased a burden of secrecy for Leah with her best friend, but it hadn’t given her peace of mind. “Rick has secrets too.”

“Oh?” said Jane, intrigued.

“He went abroad, while I was at university, and something happened. In Italy. But he won’t talk about it. He has bad dreams and shouts in Italian. I wish I could find out what is troubling him.”

“Have you asked?”

Leah explained about his constant dismissals, his refusal to answer questions, even to the point of becoming angry with her. She didn’t mention to Jane his suspicions that they had been followed—the car journey had been a moot point. The relationship had moments during the last week when it had been strained to the point of breaking. It was only Rick’s need to be in control, to seek sanctuary in his authority, which brought them back together. Leah couldn’t say no to him, not when he reminded her of the request she had made, to let him lead her, look after her.

“If only I knew who he had worked for. Maybe Mum could help me track them down and I could ask. He won’t even give the town or city he lived in. Switzerland—he talks happily about that country and his job there, but nothing about Italy,” said Leah, exasperated.

“Look, my advice and speaking as a journalist.” Jane worked at the local newspaper—the
Echo
—and fancied herself as an investigative journalist. “You’ve got nothing to go on. You need more information. Spying on him, behind his back, isn’t going to do you any favours. Talk to him. Explain your concerns. Don’t scare him off, not if you love him. Do you?”

Leah opened and shut her mouth. Love and Rick. Two words she had kept apart. He had left her once, he could do it again. She feared to love him. She daren’t say the words to him. She caged them in other words of adoration and devotion. Yet neither of them had come out and said it—I love you. Their relationship felt doomed again, just like the first time.

“I’ll speak to him,” said Leah.

Jane stared at her for a few seconds and then changed the subject. Leah knew her friend well enough. She hadn’t answered Jane’s question—Leah wasn’t the only one with doubts.

* * *

The aroma of oregano wafted out of the kitchen. It was the first thing Leah noticed after she returned from her shopping spree. Having had their crumpets, the two friends had spent the rest of the day perusing the windows of shops and boutiques, trying on clothes and shoes.

Bolognese sauce was the cause of the smell: Rick stood in the kitchen stirring a pan. Since his return from Europe, he had gradually introduced Leah to continental-style cooking: risottos, pasta, and pizza. They shared the kitchen, taking it in turns to cook and he had surprised Leah with his culinary skills.

Over dinner, he asked about her day out with Jane. Leah made no mention of his role in their conversations. His own Saturday had been spent washing and polishing the car. It was lost on Leah how a man could lose so many hours tinkering with a car.

Mealtimes were not the best for broaching difficult subjects with Rick. She had learnt that lesson. She waited for him to fill his stomach and while she washed up, he lounged in front of the television in his favoured armchair. Most of the news bulletins covered the war in Vietnam. Rick claimed to have no love of wars, but he still had an attraction for the military life. It reminded him of his childhood adventures and he listened to the reports of escalating conflict.

She waited for him to sink down, stretch his legs out, and rest his head on the back of the chair. It was easy to sneak onto his lap and curl up, her head nestled against his shoulder. He smelt of cologne and a faint trace of motor oil too. The stubble on his chin, dark and fine, narrowed his features. The growing mop of hair was still slightly damp from his shower.

“Lovely meal, thank you,” said Leah. “Italian food is yummy.”

“Yes,” he said with brevity.

“When you were out there, did you cook much or did somebody cook for you, teach you?”

“I watched others. Why do you ask?”

“I wondered whether you had been taught by a woman, you know, a girlfriend. You don’t mention if you had a girl. Is that why you don’t like to think of Italy?” She broached the topic with trepidation, curling a finger around a button of his shirt. Underneath, Rick shifted uneasily, eyes still on the television.

“No,” he said after a pause. “I did have girls to keep me company. In Switzerland too.”

“Did you spank them too?” asked Leah.

“One girl. She asked me. They were playful, nothing serious.”

“How many girls did you date?” pushed Leah.

“I’m not going to claim I’m a saint. Sometimes it was sexual. Not as many as you think. Italy is very conservative. Girls are expected to be virgins on their wedding nights. My mother may have been a Catholic, but my dad didn’t go in for religion. I don’t feel guilty about it.”

“So no broken hearts?” she asked.

“What’s this about, Leah?” he said sharply.

“I want to know you better, that’s all,” she said, sitting up on his lap. “Why won’t you talk about it?”

“I don’t want to,” he said lamely, his eyes now on her and his arms folding across his chest, blocking her hands from touching him.

“Was it something terrible? Did you do something bad?” she persisted.

“Enough! If you carry on like this, I will take you over my lap and spank you hard!” threatened Rick.

Leah tensed, her stomach churned. “Please don’t be cross with me. I don’t want you to spank me like that. I’ve not done anything wrong. I’m trying to talk to you.” Her eyes welled up with tears, and her hands trembled as she clutched them tight together.

His face softened, arms dropped down, and he took hold of her wrists, pulling her towards him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to spank you like that either.”

Leah waited. Rick appeared to be thinking, ruminating on her words.

Stroking the back of her hands with his thumbs, he finally spoke. “I can’t talk about Italy, about my job, about anything that happened there, because I swore I wouldn’t. It’s the nature of the work I did. At least a part of it.”

“But something did happen to make you leave?”

“Yes. No more, please, Leah. I’m tired.”

“Let me help you relax,” she said; freeing her hands, she picked at his shirt buttons. Rick rested his head again, closed his eyes, and let her undo his shirt. She slid her hands across his chest, feeling his heartbeats and the firm muscles. His fingers coiled about her head, combing her hair, and it gave her an idea.

She slipped off his lap and slowly began to undress. He watched as she stripped off each layer, until she reached her knickers. With slow deliberate moves, she slid them down her thighs, turning so her bottom faced him and bent over. With a flick of her wrist, the knickers flew across the room.

Naked, Leah swaggered across to Rick with her hands on her swinging hips. She found being nude, bare and on display, while Rick remained fully clothed, immensely erotic. Nothing flickered across his features, only his hazel eyes showed any reaction: the blink as she hovered before him, tempting him. Determined to break his resistance further, she lifted her hands to her nipples and began to roll them between her fingers. As they became firm and erect, she moaned appreciatively, sensing the sparks flying in her loins, her thighs quivering.

“Go on,” said Rick seductively.

One hand took a journey southwards, towards the apex of her thighs, seeking out her clit. Her fingertip circled, exposing, teasing and drawing out the small bud. Her little show brought her close to completion, but Leah didn’t want it to end, not yet. Her hand dropped away, leaving her clitoris unfulfilled, aching, and sensitive.

Kneeling at his feet, she parted his legs and crawled into the space between them. His face broke out into a gentle smile of recognition and his hazel eyes stared at her intently.

She found his semi-erect cock and held it in her hands, caressed the shaft, ringing it with her fingers, then she traced her tongue from fuzzy balls to smooth tip. The veins gradually began to show as blood filled his organ, swelling it and making him rise up stiff. His member held her fascination as it twitched, darkened, and beckoned to her. Opening her mouth, she lowered her head, forcing herself deeper than ever before, letting him touch the back of her throat.

The television remained on. The news was gone; instead it was the sports commentator reading out the football results. His voice rose and fell as he listed the scores, one after the other, in a repetitive tone. Leah mimicked his speaking, rising up and then dipping down, taking her time to explore, enjoy, partake of his taste, his special flavour. From the slit to the leathery texture of his shaft, she rolled her coiled tongue about him.

The pace was slow, almost languishing, and it caused Rick to moan. She glanced up with just her eyes, seeing him, head tilted up to the ceiling, hands gripping the armrests and his feet planted firmly to each side of her. It would be torture for him: the slow, delicate tickles of her tongue, the smouldering kisses of her lips, her hands cupping his aching balls. She pictured herself naked, kneeling at his feet, worshipping and the vision sent waves of sharp tingles throughout her body, which was a litany of desire and desperation. Her nipples erect, clitoris calling out to be touched, pussy hole to be plundered and her body manhandled for his pleasure.

It was too tortuous for Rick. Her scalp stung with a sudden sharp pain. He had grabbed her hair, twisted it tight in his fingers, and captured her head for his own use. Now, she was a vessel, a mouth and his to control. She relaxed her neck, opened her mouth wider, her throat too and let him drag her on and off his mammoth cock. It filled every part of her mouth, leaving no room to breathe and her saliva trickled out of the corner of her mouth.