Lean On Me (Take My Hand) (10 page)

So, there I lay, hugging Cindy with my
knees bent, arse in the air -completely exposed to him. I’d never been in this
position before and for the briefest of moments I felt a little embarrassed…
until I felt him crawl up behind me and put his warm hands on my waist.

We
stayed like that in perfect stillness for what must have been minutes. When he
didn’t move or speak I started to wonder what the hell he was doing.

“What
are you doing?” I asked breathlessly, every nerve ending in my body prickling
in anticipation.

“I’m
enjoying the view,” he answered, his voice deep and sultry. “Seeing you like
this,” he continued, caressing the small of my back with his flattened palm,
“is fucking beautiful. I’m committing this image to memory… so the next time
I’m alone, I’ll have the perfect image to get myself off to.”

I
was expecting to feel him inside me at any second. My fingers gripped the
sheets and I bit my lip as I impatiently waited for him to fill me. But then, a
light buzzing flooded the air and I tensed, knowing where the sound was coming
from but wondering what the hell he was going to do with it.

When
the cool silicone brushed the sensitive skin between my thighs I couldn’t
prevent the yelp that escaped.

“Like
that, do you?” Jared asked – the satisfied smirk evident in the sound of
his voice.

“Yes.”

Oh God yes.

He
continued to torture me with soft strokes – the vibrations ricocheting
through my entire body. Then, without warning he plunged the shaft of The
Kissing Swan inside of me and I cried out his name, begging for him to take its
place.

“Please,
Jared…” I whimpered –
begged
.

“Please
what, Rach? You don’t like this?”

“Yes.
God yes,” I cried as he worked the pink silicone faster and harder into me.
“But I…” My orgasm was building against my will and I didn’t want to come yet.
“I can’t hold off much longer, and I want to feel you inside me when I come.”

“Fuck,
Rachel… hearing you talk like that? Fuck.”

What
felt like fire cascaded through my veins. My skin was so hot yet goosebumps
still found their way to the surface when he removed his hands from my body and
pulled the vibrator out torturously slowly. Next, I heard the familiar tear of
foil and a few achingly long seconds later he scooted closer to me, grabbing my
hips and nudging at my entrance from behind.

“This,
Rachel…” Without warning he plunged himself deep inside me, making me cry out
his name as I braced my forearms on the mattress for support “This is for you.”

This
wasn’t lovemaking. It wasn’t slow and gentle. Jared pounded me hard and fast,
hitting a deep spot I didn’t even know existed until my arms buckled from the
sheer intensity as I exploded around his cock.

“That’s
it, baby. Enjoy it. Enjoy it for me,” he rasped, only seconds before he
juddered to a stop and collapsed on top of me. We lay, folded over the wedge
for several breathless minutes before I summoned enough energy to speak. It
lasted only minutes. It wasn’t romantic or sensual or an expression of love. It
was a pure unadulterated, animalistic pounding and I loved every fucking second
of it.

Perfect.

“I
think that may well have just been the
best
moment of my life,” I announced breathlessly. Jared threaded his hands
around my waist and in a nanosecond I was flat on my back with his body hovered
over mine.

“That
was just the beginning, saffy,” he breathed against my mouth before kissing it
softly. “I’m just getting started.”

Jared

One month later…

“
Do
you need your spray?” I asked my dad
when he started rubbing at his chest. Since his angina attack a few months ago
we’ve all been on high alert.

“No.
Stop fussing.”
Well excuse me for giving
a shit.
“So this girl. Does she work?” Rachel and I have been officially
together for a month now and I had come to my parents’ house to tell them about
her. Rachel has mentioned them a few times and I think it’s her way of trying
to wangle an invite. Truth is, I was nervous. My parents can be judgemental
arse plugs, my dad especially, and so I wanted to come alone first to try and
sound them out.

“She’s
at university,” I answered.

“I
see,” he said, sounding pleased with that answer. “Last year?”

“First.”

“How
old is she?” And so it began.

“Nineteen.”

“For
goodness sake, Jared she’s practically a child,” he grunted. I bit down on the
inside of my lip until it really fucking hurt. It was the only way I could stop
myself starting another one of our famous arguments. I didn’t have time for
that today. “So what does she study? Law? Medicine?” I drew in a deep breath in
preparation for his next rant.

“Art,”
I muttered simply before biting back down on my lip while I waited for the
response I knew I wasn’t going to like.

“
Art?
And what kind of profession does
she expect to gain with a degree in colouring in?” he snapped mockingly. “Well
I suppose you’ve found someone who strives to be as incompetent in life as you,
my son. I should congratulate you.”

“Do
not
talk about her like that, Dad.
She is one of the most intelligent girls I’ve ever met.”

“Because
she can draw? Don’t be so ridiculous.”

“Dammit,
Dad!” I shouted. “I should’ve known better than to think you’d accept her. I
only came here because she wants to meet you. And stupidly I thought you might
want to meet her too, because I’m your son and I fucking love her!”

Whoooooa….

I
love her?

Do
I?

Yes.
Yes I do.

Who
the fuck would’ve thought it…

“What
on earth’s going on in here?” My mum interrupted, flying into the living room.
“You’re… you’re in
love
?” she tacked
on, clutching her chest like she’d just heard me announce I had a necrophilia
fetish.

“Yes.
I have a girlfriend. A girl who I’m madly in fucking love wi-”

“Language,”
my mum admonished sternly.

“But
it seems she’s not good enough for Dad here. Why, you may ask? Because she
studies art. Oh and because she’s nineteen. Wanna know another little fact
you’re not going to like? She’s in a wheelchair. Yep, that’s right. She’s a paraplegic.”

“A
wheelchair
?” she repeated like it was
a dirty word. Funny, being a doctor I’d have thought she knew damn well what a
wheelchair was.

“Oh
wait, I almost forgot. She’s covered in tattoos and piercings and has hair
brighter than a London bus. So go on, Mum… why don’t you get your disapproval
off your chest too?”

“Jared
stop this now. You cannot speak to us like that,” she scolded.

“Like
I’ve just told Dad. She wants to meet you. But how the hell can I bring her
here when you’ve already decided you hate her!”

“We
don’t hate her. We don’t even know her,” my mum said, sounding surprisingly
genuine. I felt my shoulders begin to relax.

Until
my dad opened his mouth.

“I
wouldn’t worry, Sue. He’ll have moved on to the next one soon enough.”

“You
are unbelievable! Did you not hear me? I. Am. In. Love. With. Her!” I only
realised it minutes before but now I knew… I was falling more in love with her
by the second. “You know what, screw this. And screw you!”

Jumping
from the sofa I started making my way to the front door.

“Jared,
darling…” my mum said softly, putting her hand on my forearm as I reached for
the door handle. “Just give him a few days to process it. Then… we would love
to meet your girlfriend.”

“He
doesn’t deserve to meet her,” I snapped but almost immediately softened. My mum
was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She always has been with me and my
dad. We’ve fought constantly for as long as I can remember and with her loving
us both equally, she’s the one who suffers the most. “I’m sorry, Mum. I know
you’re only trying to make the peace. But I’m sick to death of trying to please
him. I’m a disappointment, a failure… I get it. I’m used to hearing it. But I
will
not
have him saying those things
about Rachel.”

“Rachel?
That’s a lovely name.”

“She’s
great, Mum. Really she is. I know she’s younger than me. I know she’s out
there. She’s loud and confident… but that’s just her exterior. On the inside…
on the inside she’s so strong. She’s beautiful, Mum, and I’m really,
really
serious about her.”

“But
the wheelch-”

“Means
nothing to me,” I cut in.

“I’m
not judging her, Jared. Though I’m sure other people will.”
Like the ignorant twat in there you mean…
“And
naturally living with any disability makes life more difficult. It’s a big
commitment to make to someone. I just want to know you’ve thought about the
long term”

“Yes,
Mum. I have. But seriously when you meet her, you’ll see for yourself how
strong she is. She’s completely independent – she wouldn’t let me
care
for her so to speak, even if I
wanted to.”

“You
know, darling… I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so mature. If your new
lady has got anything to do with this change in you, then I approve of her
already.”

Wow.
I think that is one of the most meaningful conversations I’ve had with either
one of my parents. Ever.

“Thanks,
Mum,” I said sincerely, bringing her in for a hug. “I’ll call soon.”

“I’ve
heard that before,” she said with a mocking smile. “Take care, darling.”

**********

Me:
Let me no when ur home from uni. I need to talk to u

Rachel:
Sounds ominous. Good or bad?

Me:
Not sure yet

Okay
so I was totally teasing her. Of course it was good news. I’m going to tell her
I love her. Screw that… I’m going to make her dinner (alright so I’m going to
order Chinese – same thing), then I’m going to kiss her, make love to her
and tell her how much I absolutely fucking adore her. And hell, if she’s lucky
I might even bring Cindy out to play.

Rachel:
You’re acting weird. I don’t like it. Tell me now

Me:
It needs to be face to face

Rachel:
Gotta go. Late for class. Don’t fuck with me Jaz I’m nervous here

I
planned to reply but was interrupted by a call from Mick wanting me to come into
work for an hour to change some barrels. I couldn’t really say no when he’d let
me have so much time off over Christmas, plus it would make the time pass
faster until I got to pour my heart and soul out to Rachel. Yeah I know, I’ve
turned into a pussy-whipped cheeseball.

“Who
died?” Mick asked through that permanent scowl of his when I strolled
sluggishly into The Blue Apple. About five minutes before I arrived I started
to feel like utter shit.

“Got
any painkillers?” I wasn’t even in pain but I felt so… off, and if I was coming
down with anything I needed it to have fucked off before my night with Rachel.
I was sure she wouldn’t appreciate me snotting all over her face while I was
fucking her.

“You
look like shit,” he noted, tossing me a strip of paracetamol.

“Saw
my dad this morning,” I mumbled in between popping the first then second pill
in my mouth.

“That
explains it. How is the miserable old bastard?” Sometimes I wonder how my dad
or Mick would feel if the other one died. I mean they’re brothers – they
must have loved each other once. But they both strive to make it clear to the
outside world how much they despise each other. In fact I think they try
too
hard to be truly convincing.

“Same
old miserable bastard,” I deadpanned, shrugging off my jacket. “You been on to
the brewery about the missing barrels?”

“Yeah,
lad. They’re in the cellar. Need you to stack ‘em up for me while I empty these
crates.”

“No
problem. I’ll crack straight on with it.”

Down
in the cellar I started to feel worse. By the time I’d changed my second barrel
I knew what was coming.

“Fuck,”
I barely whispered. Three years I went without a seizure. Three fucking years
thinking I’d finally gained control of my life again. Now I was about to have
my second one in six months.

I
always get a warning – an aura I think they call it. I don’t know for
sure because I’ve never been diagnosed. But every time begins the same. I start
to feel shitty – achey, like I’m coming down with something. Then just
before I feel my limbs grow heavy and my consciousness start to fade. You know
when you’re right on the verge of going to sleep – how you feel at that
very last second… that’s exactly how it feels. It all happens in just a few
seconds but when I recall it, it feels like a lifetime.

I
heard Mick call me from the top of the steps to the cellar but the muscles in
my throat had already grown too weak to answer him. Putting my hand on the
exposed-brick wall for support I started to lower myself down onto an empty
palette.

I
don’t remember if I made it or not before the room turned black…

**********

When
I came round I was lying on my side on the stone floor. I looked down at myself
without moving my head and saw that I’d been put into the recovery position.

“Why
didn’t you tell me you were having them again, lad?”

“I…
umm…” I scratched at my head, feeling confused and disorientated.

“Never
mind just now. Can you stand yet?”

Can I stand?
I
repeated the question a few times over in my mind. I felt weak and groggy. My
eyes were flickering open and closed and my limbs felt like they were made of
solid iron.
Can I stand
?

“Not
yet,” I muttered blearily.

I
could do nothing else but lie on the cold, hard floor while I waited for my
body to wake up and my brain to start making sense again. I gave Mick the nod
when I felt strong enough to stand and he held out his hand for me to grab onto
and heave myself up.

“Whoa
there, lad,” he said when I stumbled. I grabbed onto his shoulder for support.
“You wanna take a kip in the flat?” he asked, cocking his head towards the
ceiling.

“No.
I’m going home.” Feeling a little steadier I took my hand from his shoulder and
made my way towards the steps that out of the cellar.

“I’ll
take you. You’re in no fit state to drive yourself there,” he ordered. If I
hadn’t felt so fucking miserable I would’ve smiled. Mick can be such an arse.
He’s a classic middle-aged grump. He sulks, he barks orders, and he leaves all
the shitty jobs to everyone else. But when it came to needing someone to lean
on, he’s the only member of my family who’s ever been there for me when it
really mattered.

I
let Mick take me back to my apartment. I say ‘let’ him – I didn’t have
another choice. But I drew the line at him riding in the lift to my floor with
me. I wanted to be alone and I was grateful he didn’t argue with me when I told
him to leave me at the front of the building.

I
walked into my apartment in a daze. After kicking the door closed behind me I
headed straight for my bedroom. Each step was an effort. It felt like I had
boulders attached to my shoes and I had to concentrate on lifting each foot off
the floor and hauling it forwards.

When
I reached my bed I flopped straight onto it without removing my clothes or my
shoes. My head was pounding, my brain and memories still a little foggy and my entire
body was aching like I’d ran a fucking great marathon. I didn’t even have the
energy to roll onto my back so I just lay, fully clothed on top of the duvet
and closed my eyes, trapping the tears inside.

Some
hours later the door buzzer started screaming at me. At least it felt like
screaming to my sensitive head. Rolling over, I ignored it hoping they’d give
up and go away. They didn’t. The buzzes grew more impatient and I swear somehow
they got louder too.

Huffing
and cursing all the words I could think of, I dragged my sorry arse of bed and
headed to the receiver in the hall.

“What?”
I barked down the line.

“Well
that’s no way to treat your baby sister,” Jessica greeted me. “Let me up.” I
pressed the button and hung up the receiver without replying. While I waited
for her to come up I plodded to the bathroom to splash some cool water over my
face and run my fingers through my hair.