Just Human (24 page)

Danny went for the Kwak, for the comedy value of the name alone. But when it was delivered, I was beside myself. It comes in a hilariously huge glass, with a round bottom. It’s like giant chemistry equipment and it sits in a large wooden holder, because it can’t stand up on its bulbous bottom. It screams ‘I’M A TOURIST’ and has had me in fits ever since. I’ve already taken photos and posted them on Facebook. It’s brilliant. Danny took it on the chin and is enjoying it. It would be worse if he was the only one, but looking around there is at least one now on every table.

We both order the moules frites and sit enjoying our comedy beers and huge steaming pots of mussels. We while away the afternoon people watching and drinking funny beers. I’m experimenting with fruit beers, Danny is sticking resolutely to Kwak and it’s a good three hours until we test our legs and then we realise just how strong Belgian beer is.

Giggling, we walk arm in arm back to the hotel. It’s about 4pm and we’ve decided to head back for a snooze before a night on the town. We collapse onto the comfy bed fully clothed and despite a few minutes spent kissing and stroking, it has been an emotionally exhausting day and we both drift off to sleep quickly.

Fifteen.

Liv.

Friend of yours?

I wake up to darkness and take a moment to find my bearings. Danny is sound asleep next to me and I’ve no idea what time it is. I stumble to the bathroom and turn on the light and I’m relieved when I look at my watch to find it is only 7:15pm.

I open the bathroom door and throw light across the bed. Danny is curled up sleeping and I just want to stand here and watch him, but we’e only here for forty-eight more hours and we should go out. I crawl onto the bed next him and kiss his cheek softly.

“Danny.” I whisper. He stirs slightly so I kiss him twice more. “Danny.” I say with a bit more volume.

He rolls onto his back and pulls me onto him with his eyes still closed.

“Mmmm, what time is it?” he mutters sleepily, his eye peeping open and squinting at the light from the bathroom.

“Quarter past seven.”

“Hmm, I love the way you say that.”

“Say what?”

“Quarter past seven,” he says wrapping his arms around me.

“How else would you say it?”

“Seven fifteen. The way you say it is so British.”

“Are you still drunk?”

“No, but I am hungry.” He rolls me off him so that he can get up. As he walks to the bathroom he rubs his head. “Ugh, I shouldn’t drink during the day.”

“It’s a holiday perk, enjoy it. We’ll go out and drink some more, it’ll be fine.”

When he emerges from the bathroom, he retorts, “We don’t all have livers like you.”

I pretend to be wounded, but in all fairness, he is quite right. Wine gets me and these beers are strong, but at my own game, I can play pretty hard.

We get changed and, on the way out, we ask the man on the reception desk to recommend somewhere for dinner. He gives us a few leaflets, one of which is a map. He emphatically recommends Bierbrasserie Cambrinus and circles it on the map for us. We take the other leaflets to look through and head out for dinner.

The Cambrinus is a welcoming bar with a relaxed atmosphere. Some diners are eating others are just drinking. This is my kind of place; we can eat and then stay all night. It’s buzzing and warm inside and we find a table. A waiter brings us menus and phone directory of a beer list. He briefly discusses beer with us in perfect English and leaves us to decide.

I’m sitting with my back to the window, facing into the room and Danny is opposite me so he can’t see the party behind him, but they are drinking beer in glasses even more ridiculous than Kwak’s effort.

“Don’t look now, but I’ve found your next beer!” I whisper across the table.

Danny leans in to listen to me and looks all excited about the prospect of more silly beer.

“What? Tell me.”

“Well…It’s in a wooden stand like Kwak but the glass is shaped like a horn with a pointy bottom.” Trying not to stare at the men I can just about make out the name on one of the wooden stands. I flip through the menu and find it. “It’s this one, La Corne du Bois des Pendus. You have to get it, I need a picture!”

“Okay,” he laughs, enjoying the ‘in’ joke. We have so many of these stories from our history. The do-you-remember-when anecdotes. But we are both relishing the first of hopefully many more to come. The waiter comes back and Danny orders his Corne. I go for a raspberry beer, as I enjoyed the cherry so much. We both order chicken with mushrooms in Flemish beer.

Our drinks arrive and Danny sees his next funny beer for the first time. We are beside ourselves, but I manage to compose myself long enough to take the obligatory Facebook photo. I post it and tag us both and this time I put our location. While I have my phone out, I quickly jot a text out to Max checking on everything at home. Then look up guiltily to find Danny watching me.

“Sorry, just checking everything’s okay.”

“It’s fine, I just want you to relax,” he says, taking my hand across the table.

My phone lights up on the table and I look to read Max’s report. But it’s Facebook. Someone called Brooke Ellis has commented on my photo. I open the message and read it aloud.

“What’s with all the weird drinks Morgan? I haven’t seen you lately, let’s get together xxx”

Danny looks uncomfortable and my insides lurch. But I trust Danny completely so I make light of it.

“Friend of yours?”

Danny shifts in his seat and draws in a deep breath. “We have a little history.”

Hmm. Okay, that’s fine. I had another boyfriend until recently, so I can’t hold that against him. But Danny sent him packing last week AND he knew about him from the start. The question is how recent is this history?

Knowing full well what I’m thinking, he begins to explain.

“We kind of had a casual thing. But I haven’t seen her in months.” He offers me a tight smile, obviously hoping that this won’t change anything between us. I feel uneasy about it, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“It’s fine. I have exes too.”

“She’s not really an ex. But I’ll make sure she knows I am in a relationship now,” he says, and gives my hand a squeeze. “What?” he asks as I shake my head.

“Nothing, it’s just hearing you say you’re in a relationship now. It’s nice.”

“We are though, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are. It’s just the first time I’ve heard it out loud like that. I’m still getting used to it.”

“Well get used to it. I’m really serious about this Liv, I love you.”

Our dinner arrives and interrupts our serious moment. I’m glad we don’t have the chance to dwell on the Facebook comment. It seems of little significance and Danny will deal with it.

“Whoa!” Danny and I look at each other in total disbelief, our meals are obscenely big.

“Look at the size of this thing!” Danny exclaims, as he slides his ginormous oval plate from side to side inspecting the impressive dish from all angles.

Our chicken is served in meaty beer gravy, with onions and mushrooms and a towering wedge of potato dauphinoise. The whole thing is to die for and we greedily tuck in.

Grateful for the distraction, I change the subject completely and we begin discussing the diner menu. I am eager to know what Danny thinks of my take on American cuisine. Apparently I have done well and we enjoy our meal while discussing my ideas for improvement.

“I did notice you mislabelled the doughnuts though. If it’s American you’re going for then they should be
JELLY
doughnuts!” He takes another mouthful, chuckling to himself.

I put down my cutlery.

“My language, my diner!” But I love that he remembers our old debate.

“I’m just saying, it’s not right, that’s all.”

I shake my head and carry on eating.

After another lovely couple of hours, we have once again consumed a good meal and a few beers and despite the pull to stay in the cosy atmosphere of the Cambrinus, we only have the weekend, so we head out to explore Bruges by night. We take a touristy carriage ride from the market square, which is quite romantic despite the driver barking occasional facts at us as we trot along. We are certain that his English only covers the bizarre bombardment of information we are subjected to, so we don’t bother to tell him we just want a quiet canoodle in the back whilst seeing the night sights.

By the time our comedy tour is complete, we both have the giggles and all the beer we have consumed today is making it worse. We walk along a few tiny streets gazing in windows and laughing. Danny has his arm around my shoulders and I’ve tucked my hand in his back pocket. I give his bum a cheeky squeeze and he stops walking and pulls me in front of him. He steps back until he is leaning against a shop window and slips his free arm under my jacket and gropes my bottom, while he kisses me slowly.

“I think I’ve seen enough of Bruges tonight…” I murmur in his ear while he kisses down my neck. “I want to see more of you.”

“I like the sound of that,” he breathes.

I take hold of his jacket collar in both hands and pull him forwards until our lips are touching. The arm around my shoulders slides down to my bum as well and he draws me tight against him, pressing his erection into me. I take a sharp breath in surprise and he gives me a knowing look. Looking each way down the street to check we’re alone, I casually stroke my hand across the front of his jeans. Danny quietly moans and captures me in a deep kiss.

“Come on,” he grunts as he breaks the kiss. “Or I’ll have to have you here.”

I raise one eyebrow. “
I
like the sound of
that
.”

“God, don’t tempt me,” he says, grabbing my hand and heading off towards the hotel.

We burst through our door, kissing and touching. My hands stroke the bulge in his jeans. Danny tears his jacket off, letting it fall to the floor and then does the same to mine. Our lips hardly parting, I free my arms and go back to fondling him through his jeans, before tearing the button fly apart and dipping past the waistband of his boxers. He lets out a moan when I grasp his hard-on and he moans loudly.

“Sshh!” I giggle, tempted briefly to turn the tables on him and play the same control game he used on me at my parents. But I want to let myself go tonight and the alcohol is making me unconcerned about our surroundings.

I love Danny’s response to my touch; he’s completely lost in the sensation of me stroking him. He stops kissing me and gasps; resting his forehead on my shoulder he is briefly incapable of managing his pleasure and his motor skills at the same time. I continue to stroke my hand up and down, feeling him fall to pieces as I move. He won't last long like this, I can feel it. I don't know whether to stop and allow us to savour the experience or carry on and have the satisfaction of making him come, hard and fast.

His hand suddenly halts mine and he catches his breath while staring into my eyes. Apparently, he wants to go for savouring. We stand eye to eye in our room, my hand still wrapped around him. He gently takes my hand away and straightens up. He takes my face in both of his hands and kisses me tenderly, but with such passion that I’m instantly rendered useless. My hands hang limply by my sides while he takes his turn.

One hand moves behind my neck, keeping our mouths connected while his tongue does the business. His other hand slips down and his fingers run along the top of my jeans, following it around to my back and sliding inside until his fingers are splayed across my right bottom cheek. He gives it a gentle squeeze, which I find mildly amusing in my beery haze. But it barely registers through this mind-blowing kiss. It’s hot and breathy; our tongues are hardly contained within our mouths. I’m so turned on.

He stops abruptly and yanks my jeans down, following them until he is on his knees in front of me. He lifts my feet one at a time, first slipping off my shoes, then freeing my feet from my jeans and casting them aside. Then he pulls my underwear down too and tosses them over his shoulder. He pulls his face back and inspects what is before him. I’m naked from the waist down and would be extremely self-conscious about the situation, but for the extensive wax I had before we came. Plus I've had a fair amount to drink today and I am filled with lust. Right now I couldn't give two hoots about whether I'm preened and scrubbed, I just want him to reach his mouth forward and do what his current position promises.

Danny obliges willingly and I feel his tongue slide into me. He holds my thighs to steady me as he licks and sucks. It's a bad angle for access, but he certainly makes the best of it. His fingers slide into me then and he begins working them inside me as he gets to his feet. Standing face to face is however, a great angle for his fingers to find my G-spot.

"
Ah!
" I cry, shocked by the sudden intensity. Danny is using such force; I think he could lift me off the ground. I’m hardly aware of my loud moans. He doesn't relent; I’m completely incoherent, awash with sensation. I’m so wet. I just can't get a hold of my thoughts, I’ve no idea how many fingers he’s using, and he’s moving so fast. Suddenly, he stops thrusting his fingers in and out and presses them deep inside me, rubbing his fingertips back and forth over my G-spot while his thumb does magic things to my clit.

I hardly see it coming, but suddenly I tense and then practically double over as I experience the strongest, most intense orgasm of my life. Crying out in ecstasy, I fight for breath, I'm so overwhelmed with pleasure and the speed with which it has hit me. The aftershocks of my climax continue to course through my body, leaving me helpless. So while I rock back on my heels and hold onto Danny's shoulder to keep myself upright, I don't notice him whipping a condom out of his back pocket and rolling it on, he doesn't even take the time to push his jeans down.

He lifts my right leg and holds me like a rag doll as he strides the couple of feet to the wall. Pressing me hard against it, he hitches up my other leg and has slammed inside me before I realise I am no longer standing in the middle of the room. My body is still dealing with the waves of pleasure and my insides contract against his hard length, over and over. I cry out again. I can't keep track of what's happening to me. It's all pure pleasure and I have no control over the next move. Danny moans and throws his head back as he fucks me hard and fast against the wall.