Freefalling (6 page)

Chapter Seven

Hayley lay back on the studio floor and looked up at the stars, her own bit of heaven. She was knackered, totally bloody knackered, and every bit of her body seemed to ache in its own sweet way, but a gentle buzz of satisfaction was humming through her. The same buzz she had when Tom held her close, after he’d just about shagged her senseless.

What Tom did to her scared her. Shitless. Not the buzz bit, just the “everything else” bit. It had never been about simple highs and lows like she’d had with Chris; the happy or sad, the screaming or sex. It was warm and fuzzy, anticipation and fear mingled in a way that was filling her head and her heart but not tearing her apart. Just all-invading, as though Tom belonged there. Which was definitely bloody scary. And yet somehow she still had space, space to do what she wanted and space to fill with him.

He might not still want her, but she had to stop being a wimp, and face up to the facts. She loved him and all she’d had to do was let him into her head and stop trying to block him out, even if she’d had to throw him out of the house before she could do it.

Once she’d started she couldn’t stop. She’d never worked so long on one piece and she hadn’t even needed sketches, she’d just painted straight onto the canvas. It was him, her tiger in the night. A tiger that morphed into so many other things, but the essence of him was there, in the centre. Strong. And that was what he was all about, what his business was all about, power and success. She’d captured the smouldering in his eyes that she loved, a golden glow just about to burst into flames, and she’d captured the movement, the mystery, the pent-up drive and energy, the latent power about to be unleashed. The colours were wild, but it was right for him, his business. It was change, challenge, and the pure magnetic force of the man behind it. Anyone who looked would be able to see the eyes, the essence, but not the man. Her man.

Her mobile stuttered into life and she reached an arm out lazily, yawning as she picked up.

‘What’s the matter?’ There was a sharp edge of concern. Shit, she’d made the man paranoid.

‘Nothing, I was yawning.’

‘You sound strange.’

Something stirred in her core, the warmth starting to spiral in her stomach. ‘I am strange; I need you to come over.’

‘There’s definitely something wrong, Hayley; it’s past midnight and you’re asking me over.’

‘Hey Mr Boring, whoever said everything stops at midnight?’ She stretched her toes out, and the tension built in her muscles, sending a fresh tingle to the top of her thighs.

‘I’m actually in my car outside, but I didn’t like to just knock in case it made you come over all artistic again.’

The grin tugged at her insides and set the butterflies off. ‘I think I’ve done enough coming over all artistic for one day.’ She laughed into the pensive silence. ‘Well, what are you waiting for? Come up, there’s a spare key in the big pot at the side of the door.’

Answering the door would have been normal. But she didn’t want to go down; she wanted to wait for him here in this most private part of her world, of her. Wait for him and let the anticipation build in her body.

The door clicked open, shut, the key clattered on the table; his footsteps echoed on the polished wooden floor, and her heart started to pound in her ears.

He stood and stared and the hairs on the back of her neck started to prickle. He didn’t like it. He hated it. Fuck.

‘Bloody hell, Hayley, that’s … I don’t know quite what to … I --’

‘You can’t hate it?’ She knew she was whispering. He couldn’t; it didn’t feel wrong, it couldn’t be wrong.

‘It’s amazing. How could I hate it? But I don’t get how it’s so different, it’s …’

‘It’s something personal, like you said, a part of you and a part of me. I just couldn’t let myself get that close to you before.’ Saying this out loud definitely felt dafter than thinking it. But she wanted to try and explain; he deserved it. ‘I kept avoiding what was inside me, what I wanted to paint.’

‘But when we’re in bed …’ He was staring at the painting as though he didn’t want to break the bond. ‘I feel like I know every bit of you when we make love.’ There was a long pause. ‘Inside and out.’ His voice was softer, but had dropped a tone so that it snaked right under her defences.

‘I know.’ She swallowed to clear the stupid lump in her throat. ‘I was trying to lock that out when I painted so that I didn’t screw up. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I was trying to pretend I could switch my emotions on and off, I think. Oh shit, I don’t know.’ They didn’t move, standing shoulder to shoulder, and she knew she was teetering so close to the edge that turning back wasn’t really an option. ‘It’s just – well, I started painting when I was 16, to block out all the shit in my life.’ Hot tears pricked the back of her eyes and he reached out, threading his fingers through hers, the feel of him merging with the feel of her. ‘My mum died, and Dad couldn’t cope with his own feelings, let alone stupid teenage girl hormones.’

It was so still in the room, so silent she could have been alone, but for the first time in her life there was someone really there, listening even if he didn’t quite understand. ‘And I guess it worked.’ She took a steadying breath. ‘I shut myself off and put all my emotion into my painting and I didn’t need anyone’s shoulder to cry on. But I guess I started to use it as an excuse, a way of keeping people at a distance.’

‘But what about Chris?’ His thumb brushed against the back of her hand, small circles that headed straight for her heart.

‘I was totally bloody infatuated. Nothing else seemed to matter until I came to my senses. But it scared me that it was so easy to lose control, to forget what was really important to me.’ She swallowed again and tried to force everything back inside. ‘I nearly lost everything.’

‘But you didn’t and –’ there was the slightest hint of awkward catch in his voice ‘– you loved him.’

‘No, I was just ready to need someone. But – right time, wrong person.’

‘And now?’ He was close, close enough for the warmth of his body to seep into her skin, for that familiar smell of him to wrap round her.

‘I don’t want a way out.’ He traced a finger down her arm; the shiver trickled into her voice, and she was suddenly scared of what came next. ‘It’s – erm, what you wanted, then? The picture?’

‘You’re what I want.’ Warm lips found the spot beneath her ear that never failed to send a sigh through her body. ‘Even though you drive me a little bit crazier every day.’

‘It’ll stop you being grey and boring.’ She finished on a squeak as his teeth nipped the soft skin just where her neck met her shoulder.

‘I forgot what grey was the day I met you, Hayley Tring.’ His mouth travelled down over her shoulder, over the soft cotton of her T-shirt, teased at her already hardening nipple. ‘I think you’re overdressed.’

A shiver of anticipation rippled through her belly as he pulled the T-shirt over her head, the warmth of his palm against her swollen breast sending an urgent message straight to her clit.

‘You stripped me to the bare essentials in that picture so I think it’s only fair I do the same to you.’

The back of his knuckles scorched her stomach as he slipped his hands under the waistband of her jeans and tugged her closer, until her breasts rubbed against the smooth softness of his shirt and his lips were a breath away. One flick and the button gave way and he pulled the zip down with agonising slowness, until every nerve ending in her body was screaming at him to hurry. She wriggled her hips as he eased the jeans down, impatiently lifting her feet up out of the tangle of denim and knickers, his laugh curdling through her as she staggered. Firm hands on her waist steadied her body but sent every bit of her insides haywire. He was looking at her, so intently that her heart started thundering in her ears and she was sure she’d internally combust if he didn’t do something.

‘You’re mine.’ His voice was a rough growl as he unclipped her bra and a shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with being naked and everything to do with the way his gaze was raking greedily over her. ‘You’re almost too good to touch.’

‘Tom!’ Shit, he wasn’t going to stop now.

‘Almost.’ His mouth curled with a wickedness that sent her pulse racing into overdrive. ‘Ever thought of doing a self-portrait?’

‘My cheekbones are too big.’

‘No one will be looking at your cheekbones –’ The heat of his finger caressed her cheek as he spoke. ‘But they’re perfect anyway.’

‘I’m too skinny, my hipbones …’

‘I love your hipbones.’ His voice had a rough catch in it as his hand traced a path down her body. One lazy finger circled her belly, drifted out to her hip. ‘I love you just as you are. Cheekbones, hipbones, wacky artistic brain …’

‘Tom.’

‘Shh.’

She gasped as his thumb stroked over her mound, while he gently pushed between her thighs with firm fingers, edging her legs wider apart. ‘I want you so much.’ His fingers stroked along her slit, probed, opening her, finding their way inside her, and she clutched at his shoulders as her trembling legs threatened to give way. ‘I love watching you come.’ His fingers were still but his thumb was circling on her clit, setting off the gentle swirl of orgasm inside her. ‘Come for me, Hayley.’ The heat of his other hand burnt a path down her spine and she moaned as he reached the bottom, as he pressed against the base. Held her tight. ‘I’ve got you, darling.’ And he was pressing in deeper, fluttering his fingers, creating sensations she didn’t recognise, and she was coming. Spiralling over the top, on the crest of a wave that was shattering, splintering, sending tendrils of aftershock to every part of her body.

She was panting, still seeing stars, when he kissed her, kissed her properly. His mouth claimed hers, and she moaned, rubbing her hips against the rough denim of his jeans as fresh need slammed through her. His tongue explored, flicking over her teeth, circling the tip of her own tongue until finally he started to suck gently, teasing till her clit started to throb again in response. The taste of lust flooded her senses, lust and a need that had her clutching at his hair, his shoulders, matching the demands of his kiss with her own.

‘Oh God, Hayley.’ His forehead rested against hers, his breathing rough and uneven, matching her own as they both gasped for air.

‘I want you, Tom.’ She slipped her hand down between them, rubbed her palm along the length of his hard cock, the heat of him burning through the thick denim. He groaned and shut his eyes, helping her as she fumbled with his belt. ‘I need you.’ She pushed his boxers down just far enough that she could get her hand round him, feel the silken skin, the long, hard length of him.

‘Shit.’

Hayley dropped down to her knees and swirled the drop of precome over his glans with her tongue, the musky sweetness and his groan making her desperate for more. Slowly she pushed her mouth down, her lips just wide enough to take his tip, constricting over the broad rim of his cock as she stroked her tongue over his slit. ‘Oh fuck.’ His grip increased on her hair as she dug her fingers into his bum, as her lips glided down until the taste of him was in the back of her throat. She sucked as she pulled her lips back up the length of his cock, flicking her tongue against his frenulum until he widened his legs, and his balls tightened. And then she took him again, her mouth engulfing as much as she could, swallowing as he nudged the back of her throat. He held her head tight for a moment as her muscles squeezed the tip of him, pushing in a tiny bit deeper, and then he pulled free.

‘Come here.’ The rough growl in his voice sent a new want through her as he pulled her to her feet and his mouth roughly took hers. ‘That’s fucking amazing, but –’

‘Please.’

‘Please what?’

‘Make love to me, Tom, I need you inside me.’

‘I thought you’d never ask. But –’ He moved back slightly and, for a moment, panic hit as cool air replaced the heat of his skin against hers, like it could still all go wrong. After all, she was the butt-naked one, even if his dick was standing free and to attention. ‘Not here.’ She turned to head for the stairs, but he was too quick; his hands were on her waist, and before she could object he’d picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder. One firm hand came down hard on her buttocks and she yelped. ‘I like having you under my control.’ He laughed as she pounded on his back with her fists.

‘Put me down.’

‘All attempts to escape are futile, my darling.’

‘Hey.’ She kicked her legs, but he just tightened his grip.

‘Hey yourself, honey. Any more wriggling and your bum will be glowing pinker than a baboon’s arse.’

‘You’ve got such a way with words.’

‘And you’ve got such a gorgeous bum. Shut up, woman.’ It was probably the abseiling or rock climbing, or whatever else he did in his spare time, but he seemed to find her weightless as he headed down the stairs. As they hit the bottom step he sank a finger in her pussy and she yelled out at the sudden intrusion, a yell that turned to a moan as he pressed deeper into her, twisting his hand. She was panting as he threw her down on the bed, wrapping her legs round him as he sank down on top of her.

‘You’ve got too many clothes on for a guy who’s been stripped bare.’

He gave a wicked grin and lifted her, his large hands almost spanning her waist as he pushed her further across the mattress until her shoulders were balanced on the edge of the bed.

‘Hey, I’m going to fall off.’

‘I’ll never let you fall off.’ She should have guessed from the darkening of his eyes, from the pressure of his hands on her waist, but she didn’t. Didn’t know what he was about to do until his head dipped down between her thighs and his tongue swept a path that left her trembling. He thrust his tongue into her throbbing pussy and pure pleasure rippled through her. She was rocking, sliding off the bed, clutching at the covers as he licked and nibbled, his hair tantalizing the inside of her thighs.

‘Tom, for fuck’s sake.’

‘What? You don’t like foreplay? I was going to kiss you all over, suck …’

‘Please.’ OK, her tone was needy, desperate, begging. But she didn’t give a shit.