Lust (7 page)

“I'm sorry,” I say, cringing inside. I'm so acutely embarrassed by my actions. I wouldn't dream of behaving like this normally. I literally threw myself at him. Begging for it.

He sighs noisily, raking his hair.

“No I'm the one who should be sorry, fuck knows what's happened to my self control. I'm putting it down to emotional overload. And you've had far too much excitement for one day. You really need to get some sleep. I'm going now. I'll speak to you tomorrow, okay?” And he turns, walking away from me.

With a last lingering look from the door, he says goodbye. “Night, beautiful.” And with a half smile, that tugs at my heart like nothing else, he leaves my sight.

More heated tears rush to my eyes, but I'm not sure why I'm crying anymore. Is it that he calls me beautiful? That he's gone? That he had the strength to go, when he clearly didn't want to? That my body is crying out for him like nothing I've ever experienced before? Or is it my state of embarrassment at my wanton behavior? Or maybe just the huge fact that I've been badly assaulted? It all adds up to a heavy dose of emotional battery.

I hear the front door click shut quietly a few minutes later.

With a deep sigh of regret and acute sense of loss of his physical presence, I turn the light off, roll on my stomach, and with a loud sob, I cry myself to sleep.

I wake at seven the next morning, with light flooding into my room through the window. I lay there for a while staring blindly at nothing, thinking.

Did I dream it all?

I quick touch to my shoulder tells me, no, I definitely didn't. The tender skin still smarts at my touch. I press the end of my injured finger and it throbs. I look down at my scratches and seethe.

How dare they do this to me?

In the cold light of day I'm thinking I might change my mind and report the bastards to the police for their vicious attack. But then I remember, I don't want Sean to get in trouble. Would they charge him with assault? Probably not, but I don't want to take the risk.

It's much too early to call Charlotte. I want to explain what happened last night. To clear the air To tell her the real reason I went home. But I don't dare to wake her. Charlotte doesn't get up very early on her day off and she won't want to chat at seven.

As I swing my legs out of bed, I see my dress lying on the floor, where I'd stepped out of it the night before. I pick it up and put it on a hanger and finger the parts Sean mended. A sense of understanding races through me, as I remember all that happened last night, here in my apartment. The way he left, so resolutely, has demonstrated the moral side of his character. The way he wouldn't take advantage of my delirious emotional state. He could so easily have stayed the night. I almost begged him to make love to me. But he didn't. He knew it was wrong, even though we both wanted it like nothing else. He surprised me so much last night, in almost everything he did. I can't quite process it all.

I'm dying of thirst and I get up and go through the living room toward the kitchen.

En route, I see a note on the dining table table and walk across to pick it up. A big smile rises to my face as I read it.

“Lissa,

I found it so hard to leave.

I wish I could have stayed.

But it wasn't the right time.

Call me as soon as you read this.

Sean

x”

His cell number is written in large numbers and underlined twice with an arrow pointing to it.

I get my cell out of my bag and quickly scroll through the latest stuff on there. The usual friends messages and my mom. Nothing urgent.

It's a bit early to call Sean. I don't want to wake him, if he's sleeping. So I send him a text.

- Thank you so much for looking after me. I'll never forget your kindness, ever. x
x

In the kitchen, I pour myself a large glass of orange and mango juice and then go back to my room, and climb back in bed for a while.

My cell bleeps about a half hour later.

- Looking after you was a real pleasure. Be ready at 12.00, I'm taking you to Ai Fiori for lunch. Dress up nice. xx

I'd forgotten about his lunch offer. The one which I'd tried to turn down last night in the bar. I'm now very keen to go. I've not been to a swanky restaurant before, and I'm pleased to be asked on such a beautiful date. And even more pleased to be going with him.

I laze around for a few hours, in a varying range of moods. I'm excited, nervous, angry, elated, tearful and now and then, a little nauseous, as details of my assault flood my memory.

I finally drag myself up and out of my emotionally induced ennui, at half past ten.

I put Charlotte's forthcoming reaction to my date, to the darkest reaches of my mind, as I send her a tentative text.

- Happy birthday! How are you?

A reply comes back a few minutes later.

- Completely fucked. Trying to sleep. Spk tomorrow.

I'm sensing a frostiness in her unwritten words. A brush off. Or maybe she's got company? Reece could be there? It looks like I'll have to wait to tell her things, which is a shame, because she's my best friend and I really need to share the event of last night with another woman. But knowing Charlotte as I do, I couldn't possibly interrupt her birthday lie in. She takes lie ins very, very seriously.

I head into the shower, trying my best not to look at the scratches and the bandage on my nail.

I still can't believe it happened.

What kind of bastards would do this to me at my birthday party?

My emotions are swinging from fury to being very upset.

I think I need a sedative or something to calm myself down, and I open the cupboard over the vanity, looking for something that might help.

After a good hunt around the apartment, all I can find is a packet of painkillers in Joanne's room. It'll stop the soreness for a while, I guess, although it won't do much to stop what's going through my mind.

I step under the hot water. It powers down, soaking me in a blissful, steamy waterfall. I wash myself thoroughly, shampooing my hair into a thick and creamy mass, and smothering my body in my favorite raspberry and vanilla shower gel. It's a highly sensual experience. My eyes close in enjoyment and desire rushes through me in a powerful, hot wave. My mind is completely flooded with Sean. My senses are drowning with the memory. I'm bombarded with the feel, the smell and the sublime taste of him. I don't think a guy could ever taste better. I puff out a long breath, as my stomach and sex muscles contract hard. The whole physical him takes the forefront of my thoughts, but I also think how well he treated me last night. That makes me want him so much more. I'm so looking forward to seeing him and spending some time in his dreamy and more than welcome company.

As I leave the shower cubicle, I'm scrubbed and buffed to within an inch of my life. And I feel so much more than clean. I'm rejuvenated and reborn and full of hope, excitement and enthusiasm.

I know my euphoria is probably short lived, but I'm grateful for the moment.

I tip my head down, wrapping my long hair in an absorbent pink towel. Then I rub a circle in the steamy glass and poke my tongue out. Amused by my bright pink, blurred reflection.

Entering the coolness of my room, I shiver, as I sit at my dressing table. My face returns to it's usual color and I try to apply my make up carefully. Then I dry my hair and style it. I straighten it with my irons and wear my long fringe sweeping down, across my face. He hasn't seen this look, as I usually wear it over to one side or parted. I think it suits me like this.

All round, it's a sexy look and one I hope he likes.

On close examination, my ex student wardrobe is very unsuitable and lacking in 'occasion wear'.

Jeans, jeans and... oh look...more frickin' jeans. Pants, a few skirts, sweaters, t-shirts, club wear... hell, I don't have anything to dress up nice in. Not swanky kind of dress-up, anyhow...

I rather stupidly start to panic about what to wear. In the end I find something which has potential in Joanne's wardrobe. A black and grey, abstract-patterned, short sleeved stretch dress, with a low scoop neckline. It shows my curves, and reaches modestly to my knees. My short, snug-fitting, black leather jacket, will go well with that. I also borrow Joanne's strings of semi precious pearls and matching bracelet for a touch of class. She doesn't mind me borrowing her things, sometimes she borrows my stuff...my jeans, my purses and junk jewelry.

For shoes, I go for the same black high heels, which I wore to the party last night.

I'm ready by half past eleven and sit around waiting nervously, examining every crack in the ceiling and wall.

Sean in jeans and a shirt was hot. Sean in a suit is beyond imagination and all description. I'm overwhelmed at the door, as this masculine vision appears before me, in a black suit, cream shirt and much too sexy tie.

“How are you feeling?” he says. The words float through my head and I vaguely notice his eyes are kind and concerned.

A wave of delicious little prickles arise on my skin as I cast my eyes over him.

“Much better thanks,” I say, pulling myself together and dragging him inside.

As we look at each other, I'm feeling no embarrassment. No emotional hangover from the events of the night before. His perfect little note cleared that up very well.

“I didn't really know what to wear. I've never been to a place like Ai Fiori before.”

His eyes run all over me, head to toe with very obvious approval.

“You're beautiful. Could you be anything but beautiful I wonder?”

I blush with pleasure.

He wraps his arms around me and gently kisses my cheek. I'm swamped with his gorgeous fragrance, and the whole him. He smooths my hair and and winds a length of it round his fingers.

I pull back a little, to ease the tension, and so I can look at him.

I need to ask a burning question.

“How's Jase today?”

“He didn't come home last night,” he says quietly.

“
Oh really
?” I reply, in surprise.

“I spoke to him about an hour ago,” he continues.

“And...?”

“I asked him to leave. He's taking a flight at four.”

“
You asked him to leave
? So what happened? You obviously had some bad words?

“More than a few, and very choice ones.”

“Were they about me?”

“You and someone else you know pretty well. He needed to be put straight about a few things.”

My mind quickly puts two and two together.

“Was he with Charlie?” I ask this question, with my heart pounding, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, I'm sorry, Lissa.”

Charlotte's 'completely fucked' comment is taking on a whole new meaning. I'm angry with her, and him. She didn't want Jase. She'd shown sub-zero interest in him. And he hadn't shown any interest in her either. Not that Charlie ever needs much in the way of interest to sleep with a guy. But even so. It's like they're both trying to get at me, and Sean, for something based purely on their suspicion. Although I can't deny they do have some cause, its shitty, nasty and immature,
fuck them, let's do it
, tit for tat, behavior.

“
Well
,” I say, a little stunned. “I guess they can do what they like though, can't they?”

“They can and have, but I couldn't help feeling disappointed in him, and...well... kinda fucked off about it,” Sean says, echoing my thoughts exactly.

“So what bad words did you have, about me?” My eyes search his.

“That's not something I want to share. But I thought you ought to be aware of what happened, that's all.”

“Does he know we're having lunch?”

“That's
all
he knows. You and I are none of his goddamn business, are we?”

“Right,” I say gazing blindly at him, my mind ticking away like crazy and my stomach churning.

I'm now wondering what Jase has said to Charlie and hoping that's absolutely nothing about anything.

“Lissa, I don't want to talk about them. I'm really not interested in Charlie and Jase and what they do anymore. I'm in New York for another ten days, before I leave for London. And as far as I'm concerned, this is our time, not theirs.”

My heart skips a beat at his sentiment, and his offer of ten days of togetherness is wildly appealing.

Ten whole days? Oh bliss, bliss bliss, thank you God.

“You know something? You're so right.” I agree.

*

“So,” he says, munching his focaccia bread enthusiastically. I'm really enjoying watching him pop pieces into his mouth. It's a sensual feast for my eyes. And it's also giving me a hot flush. “Tell me absolutely everything about yourself.”

I laugh at his cheeky grin. “I think I can manage a quick life resume.”