The First Time We Met: The Oxford Blue Series #1 (17 page)

‘Better than I expected … You know, I kind of expected you to call and let me know you were on your way.’

‘I wanted to surprise you. Is that OK?’

‘Of course it is.’

‘Then come here.’

His kiss is deep enough to blot out the world. It’s also kind of prickly because I don’t think he’s shaved for days. I could swear he’s holding on to me a little tighter than he normally does, and as I renew my acquaintance with his body again the shivery feeling I get tells me I’ve missed him more than I’d ever admit.

He squeezes my fingers. ‘Your hands are cold,’ he says.

‘I forgot my gloves.’

Where have you been?’

‘Just to the pub with a few friends. I’d have made sure I was back, if I’d known you were on your way.’

‘Like I say, I wanted to surprise you.’

I haven’t told him about Scott; it’s not important but I get the feeling Alexander might make a big deal out of it and, right now, I just don’t want the drama.

‘You have.’

‘Good. Now, I’d like to go home. I need a shower, a shave and some decent food, but first I’ve got a surprise for you.’

Within minutes we’re back at his house and for the third time today I get to open a gift-wrapped package – which Alexander is ‘helping’ me to try on. A fire burns in the hearth and the thick curtains are drawn against the dark night, yet I’m shivering, partly because the house has been empty for a few days, but mainly because I’m naked except for a pair of Saint Laurent pointed pumps with black satin ribbons that tie round the ankle, and the Cartier necklace.

‘Is the bow perfect yet?’ My calves wobble a little as the five-inch heels spike the Persian rug.

‘Not quite.’

Kneeling at my feet, Alexander adjusts the knot of the satin bow on my right shoe. The left one took an age until he was satisfied.

‘Surely it will do?’ Impatience tugs at my voice combined with a burgeoning sense that if I stand here any longer, with his hands caressing my ankles, I will want to drag him down on to the sofa.

He gives the bow a tiny tweak and glances up at me. ‘You’ve
clearly never been to Sandhurst. I was made to do two hours’ drill in the pouring rain once because the toothpaste on my brush wasn’t the regulation length. Since then, the phrase “It’ll do” has been absent from my vocabulary.’

‘If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not at Sandhurst.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it. Everyone would be court-martialled if you walked into the mess looking like this. However, I’m aware it’s a little cool in here, so for now I’ll allow you to pass.’

As he gets up, his strong fingers glide up the backs of my calves and thighs.

I wobble a little. ‘And how am I supposed to walk in these?’

‘You’re not. I’ll get my driver to drop us right outside Covent Garden. I hope you like
Giselle
?’

It’s one of my favourites. ‘I suppose it will do,’ I tease, still amazed that he has arranged tickets to the ballet tomorrow evening as a Thanksgiving gift and, I suspect, compensation for being away from me. I haven’t been to Covent Garden on my previous trips to London and I can’t wait.

He stands up and assesses his handiwork.

‘Now, are you satisfied?’ I ask.

‘I’m never satisfied, Lauren, you should know that.’ Taking my hand, he helps me drop to the rug so that we’re face to face.

I run my fingertip over his now-smooth chin and he grimaces. ‘Sorry about earlier. I managed to grab a shower, but I didn’t have time to shave.’

‘I don’t care if you’d walked in here straight from some battle ground.’

‘Oh, believe me you would, but I wanted to get to the shoe shop before it closed.’

‘Now, that is a phrase I didn’t think I’d ever hear from Alexander Hunt’s lips.’ I push him back on the carpet, sitting astride one thigh, my wet sex pressing into the iron-hard muscle. He grips my hips and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe I’m here – or he is.

‘You look sensational, Lauren. I’ve wanted this for the past five days.’

‘Ditto.’

He exhales sharply when I unzip the fly on his trousers and tug them down over his hips, as he realizes what I’m going to do to.

I enjoyed this with Todd, mainly because
he
enjoyed it, but I never craved to do it like I do now. ‘I have to taste you.’ My fingers circle the base of his shaft and I lower my head and close my mouth around the head of his penis.

He’s so aroused that his cock is almost too big for me but I love the heat and taste of his flesh inside my mouth and his groan of pure animal delight as I suck gently on the crown. I press my damp sex against his thigh, rubbing my clit against the muscle. I slide my lips from his penis and circle it tightly at the base. Alexander tangles his fingers in my hair, tugging gently at the roots while I flick my tongue along his hard shaft. It hurts a little but the sharp little tugs turn me on even more.

‘Do you know what you do to me?’ His voice is fractured, unlike him. I love tearing down his defences and his thighs grow rigid as I touch my tongue to the purple head. ‘Fuck, stop!’

I lift my head up. ‘You’re not enjoying it?’

‘God, yes, but I want to shag you even more.’

He helps me to my feet and drags off his shoes and trousers. Then we’re up against the sofa, my hands braced on the arm, my calves taut as high-wires in the heels, the ribbons cutting into my calves. He pushes me down over the sofa and his fingers slide between the cheeks of my ass. Briefly, I tense up, thinking he’s going to take me from behind like Todd once tried to. I hated it, and with Alexander the thought scares me too – yet also makes my gut clench with irrational lust.

His finger slides between my lower lips and into the slick heat of my body.

‘You’re so ready.’

I whimper my response as he withdraws his finger and massages my clitoris with my own juices. He slides in easily, yet still he’s so full and thick and hot. I wriggle back against his thighs to take in his whole length. ‘Lean back.’ I straighten and he stimulates my clit with his fingers, pushing the feeling out from my bud throughout my pelvis. Everything tightens around my nub until I’m swollen and desperate.

‘Close?’

‘Mmm.’

My pussy ripples spasms around him and he starts to thrust harder. I slap my hands back on the couch arm
as he drives in faster and harder. My climax builds, until I want to scream for release. Alexander slams into me, my fingers dig into the couch and I come, a shuddering, whimpering mess, holding nothing back from him.

It’s a crisply beautiful Saturday morning at the start of Eighth Week, with a cloudless blue sky. A light sheen of frost lingers in the shadows on the front quad lawn. My run has gone great, the sex I had with Alexander this morning has left me with a smile on my face, and as for the ballet last night – that was all I’d dreamed of and more. Only the prospect of the looming vacation at the end of this week clouds my mood. I’m so looking forward to seeing my parents again but that also means I’ll have to be without Alexander for six weeks.

Despite this, not even the sight of Rupert strolling up to me can ruin my morning.

He smirks when he spots me walking in through the Lodge. ‘You look fit,’ he says, and by now I’ve been here long enough to recognize the double entendre.

‘You should try it some time,’ I shoot back between breaths.

‘Alexander not joining you on your run? Or have you worn him out?’

I grit my teeth. ‘He’s working on an essay.’

‘I suppose he’s got a lot of catching up to do with all his extra-curricular activities. I really don’t know where you both find the energy.’

‘If you ran, Rupert, you might find you have the
energy. But I can’t stand here chatting to you in the cold – I need to take a shower.’

‘If you want company, you only have to ask. I know you get lonely when Alexander’s away.’

‘Not that lonely.’ I start walking towards my room.

‘I suppose I’ll see you next weekend at Falconbury.’

His voice stops me dead in my tracks and I turn back. ‘What?’

‘At the Falconbury hunt, of course.’

‘What hunt?’

Rupert frowns. ‘
The
hunt. The one the marquess holds annually on the Falconbury estate. I would have thought that Alexander had already mentioned it to you. Everyone’s going down to the house on Saturday morning, although you’ll already be there, I presume, knowing how Alexander likes to arrive a couple of days early?’

Through my clouds of breath, I see Rupert grinning at me like a troll, his eyes glinting with delight. I realize that I have been lured into a trap and swallowed the bait whole. The only thing I can do now is try to call the bastard’s bluff. ‘Oh that … Alexander mentioned there was some kind of event this weekend, but I didn’t connect it with the hunt.’

‘Of course you didn’t … but I’m delighted Alexander has “mentioned” it to you.’ He brackets his fingers round the word. ‘It would have been very strange if he hadn’t because I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to show Falconbury to you and introduce you to his father.
I’m surprised he hasn’t taken you before, but now’s your chance. You
do
hunt, don’t you?’

I paste on a smile. ‘I’ll see you there, Rupert,
if
you have the energy.’

Turning away from his smirking face, I walk towards my room as if nothing is wrong. Inside, my mind is whirling like a fairground ride. Alexander hasn’t so much as hinted about the hunt or the weekend.

Yet Rupert said that ‘everyone’ was going down to the estate on Saturday.

Everyone, it seems, except me.

Why?

That is the question which has occupied my mind since I left Rupert smirking in the quad yesterday morning. Why hasn’t Alexander asked me to his home, to the biggest event of the year at Falconbury? The event that, if Rupert is to be believed,
everyone
has been invited to?

It’s Sunday lunchtime and Alexander still hasn’t said a word about the weekend. Last night, we went for cocktails at the Duke of Cambridge with Immy, Skandar and some of the tennis Blues, and then made love in his house until the small hours. It has killed me not to ask him anything, but I want the invitation to come from him; it
has
to come from him. Until now I have kidded myself that he has been too busy working to discuss it or that he wanted to keep it a surprise for Saturday night, but as the time ticks by that hope – that delusion – has ebbed away.

He is acting super-nice to me, but I feel as if it’s not his hand in mine as we stroll along the gravelled drive through Christ Church Meadow towards the river. I feel as if it is not him walking at my side as we turn out of the avenue of trees and on to the bank of the Isis, but a stranger.

‘Would you like to go somewhere for lunch?’

His words cut into my thoughts. I focus on a lone sculler sweeping past on the river, which is black under the louring skies. ‘I don’t care.’

‘You don’t
care
?’

It was a bratty reply and unworthy of me, as he might say, but I’m not sure I can hold back much longer.

‘I meant that I don’t mind.’

‘We could go to Quod,’ he suggests as we walk along the riverside path. ‘Or I can drive us out to the Trout or the Mole at Toot Baldon if you fancy getting out of Oxford. I know how claustrophobic this place can be.’ From the edge in his voice, I’m certain he guesses something is wrong.

‘I guess I’m not hungry today.’

He stops by the bridge that leads to the college boathouses. ‘Lauren, what the hell is the matter with you?’

‘I’m –’

‘Please, don’t insult my intelligence by saying “fine”.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t dare insult the intelligence of the great Alexander Hunt!’

Birds scatter in the tree above our heads and a middle-aged woman purses her lips at our raised voices, as if to ask how we dare ruin the tranquillity of this beautiful place. Alexander touches my elbow.

‘What’s the matter with you? Is it something I’ve done?’ His voice bristles with irritation.

‘Why would it be something you’ve done?’

‘Because you wouldn’t behave like this for any other reason. Unless you’ve had some bad news from home?’

‘Nothing like that.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I just want
to know why you think it’s OK not to ask me to your home next weekend.’

There’s a pause that lengthens before he finally murmurs, ‘How do you know about that?’

‘From Rupert. Unless you were going to ask me today? Is that it, Alexander? You were waiting to surprise me?’

Guilt is stamped on his face.
Good
. ‘No, I wasn’t waiting to surprise you.’

My stomach clenches sharply. ‘So you weren’t going to tell me about it?’

‘Of course I was going to tell you about it and I’m sorry you found out from Rupert. He should mind his own fucking business, as usual.’

‘What else did you expect? He assumed I’d been invited and why wouldn’t he? I pretended you
had
mentioned it because I wanted to give you the chance to ask me, but I was obviously wrong.’

His back stiffens as he retreats inside his armour. ‘I should have told you I was going to be away this weekend, but I kept putting it off.’

Words almost fail me at the shock of realizing he had no intention of including me in the weekend, but then they burst out, without restraint.

‘I’m flying home next week and it was going to be our last weekend together. You knew that!’

‘Lauren, you’ve got things completely wrong. This is the hunt, remember, and I know you’ll hate it. The whole thing is tedious and full of liggers, hangers-on and social climbers who you’ll probably loathe on sight.
I wouldn’t go back to Falconbury myself, but I have no choice.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it’s a tradition,’ he says with icy patience.

‘Tradition? Oh, in that case,
of course
you have to go. Don’t let me get in the way of tradition.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, grow up.’

His armour slips and I stare at him open-mouthed. I walk off the bridge, trying to stay calm, but he catches me in a few strides and grabs my arm.

‘Let’s discuss this like adults.’ He sounds so stiff I feel as if a chasm has opened between us.

‘Are you embarrassed by me and that’s why you don’t want me to come?’

‘
Embarrassed?
Is that honestly what you think?’

‘What else should I think when you refuse to ask me to what’s clearly the biggest occasion in the social calendar.’

He snorts in derision.

‘It
is
important to you, though, isn’t it? Rupert might be a top bullshitter but he did say that “everyone” was going.’

‘Not everyone. He’s talking out of his arse as usual – and winding you up – and as for me being embarrassed by you, that’s the very last reason I haven’t asked you.’

‘I don’t buy that.’

We face up to each other, both daring the other to back down. Alexander glares at me, then sighs. ‘I’m embarrassed by my family, that’s why, and some of my friends. I wasn’t lying when I told you you’d hate them.
As for my father … he’s an awkward bastard at the best of times and I can’t guarantee he’ll be any different because I’ve got company. In fact, he could be worse.’

The words tumble out as if he’s physically hurt by saying them.

‘But won’t Emma be there?’

‘She may be – it depends on her end-of-term plans, but really it will be almost exclusively hunting people – and Rupert of course.’

I feel as if he has mentioned Rupert as an added dissuasion, but I refuse to take the bait. ‘I can understand that you can’t get away from your family, but if you loathe these people so much, why do you invite them to your home?’

‘I don’t loathe all of them – most of them, I admit – but I didn’t invite them, either. My father decides the guest list now, and my mother did it when she was alive. They’re all hunt people we’ve known for years, centuries in a couple of cases, and,’ he adds contemptuously, ‘nothing changes at Falconbury. My father sees to that. The Falconbury meet and the ball afterwards are traditions that have been going on for generations.’

‘There’s a
ball
too?’

He glances away from me guiltily. ‘Yes, it’s on the Saturday evening after the meet but …’

‘But what?’

‘Well, if you
really
want to come, then I’m happy for you to be there, but …’ He pulls me into his arms and I stand, stiffly, as he looks at me seriously. ‘You can come on one condition, that you believe me when I say
that I’m not ashamed of you in any way. I was only trying to protect you by keeping you away from my bloody family and friends for as long as I could.’

There is such fierce passion in his voice that I have to believe him, even though I’m still confused and reeling from his admission that he wasn’t going to invite me. ‘I wish you’d told me this sooner instead of me having to hear it from Rupert. You don’t have to protect me from people – whether they’re idiots in pubs or your own family.’

‘You haven’t met my relatives.’

‘You’re forgetting I’m a politician’s daughter. I think I can handle a few awkward family members and I certainly don’t need to be wrapped in cotton wool. I had such a battle to persuade my parents that I wanted to study over here, but I stood my ground, so I can deal with your father and anything these so-called friends of yours throw my way. You know, I bet they’re nowhere near as terrible as you think they are.’

I sound more confident than I feel and, far from reassuring me, Alexander simply murmurs, ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’

‘My God, is this the new distribution centre for Net-a-Porter?’

Shaking her head, Immy glances up at the clothes piled on my bed, hanging from the doors and hooked over the picture rail. God knows, I’ve probably spent more time packing for this weekend than I did for the whole eight-week term. I tried to ask Alexander what
I should take, but couldn’t get more than a muttered, ‘Whatever you wear I’m sure you’ll look beautiful,’ out of him. In truth, I’ve hardly seen him since Sunday because we both had so much work to do to meet deadlines for our end-of-term essay projects. When I have seen him, he’s been on edge and snappy.

In the end I asked Immy round, though I felt guilty because she hadn’t been invited.

‘I don’t know what to take for the weekend. I wish you were coming to Falconbury.’

She snorts. ‘Me? No way.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t hunt and I don’t want to. I love riding and I’ve been to meets a couple of times, but all that outdated silly ritual does nothing for me.’

‘But they don’t hunt foxes now, do they? They only follow trails.’

Immy raises her eyebrows in response.

‘I wouldn’t dream of going along if they did,’ I declare. ‘I hate cruelty to animals.’

‘Don’t let them hear you say that. However, that’s not really the point of a Falconbury meet these days. Some of them are there for the thrill of the sport, like Alexander, but the rest love the socializing, the drinking and, most of all, the being seen to be invited into the Hunt social circle. If you think you’ve seen social climbing, you’ve seen nothing until you experience a Falconbury hanger-on. Some of them would trample on their grannies to get an invite.’

‘You haven’t been to a White House fundraiser. It’s white tie and crampons.’

‘I’d be happy to hone my climbing skills there.’

Even though I laugh, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the weekend was making me feel increasingly nervous. Alexander’s touchiness isn’t helping one bit. He keeps saying that he’s glad I’m coming now, but I can tell how tense he is about it. Can his family and friends really be
that
unpleasant?

‘So, what do you think I should take?’

‘Mmm.’ She circles the room, chewing her lip. ‘Are you actually going to ride out with the hounds on Saturday morning?’

‘No, but I might go for a ride with Alexander at some point. I bought a new tweed hacking jacket, jodhpurs and boots for that.’

She sighs with relief. ‘Thank fuck for that. You would not believe the etiquette involved in hunting turn-out – almost as bad as the rituals here – and the Falconbury lot are sticklers for it. Wear the wrong colour coat or forget to give the Master his due deference and you can kiss goodbye to being asked back. I hate the whole ridiculous charade personally, but it’s an unbreakable Hunt fixture and I know Rupert adores the whole thing. Don’t let this weekend drive a wedge between you and Alexander.’ She runs a finger reverently over my Donna Karan cocktail dress.

‘So, what do you think? I need something for drinks and dinner with the Hunts on Thursday evening.’

‘Oh, lucky you.’

‘I thought maybe I’d wear this?’ I hold up the sleeveless black Twiggy studded silk-crepe dress I splashed out on in Harvey Nicks.

‘That’s perfect. Chic and edgy. However …’

‘Yes?’ I ask anxiously.

‘Falconbury is probably glacial. These places always are and General Hunt probably considers it a blood sport to keep his guests shivering. Have you got anything to put over the top of it?’

‘I bought a silver shrug from home.’

‘Perfect. What about the ball? Will you wear the dress you bought for Rashleigh Hall?’

‘I thought I’d better try something different so I got my mother to send over a couple of things.’ I show her the Alexander McQueen purple chiffon gown and a Calvin Klein dress similar to one I saw Kristen Stewart wearing to the Met Gala.

She strokes the teal velvet. ‘My precious …’ she purrs, and I burst out laughing. ‘I bought it while I was dating Todd, but I haven’t worn it yet. I hope that’s not an omen.’

‘They’re both stunning and either would knock everyone dead and –’ she grins wickedly ‘– that’s probably what you’ll want to do by the end of the weekend.’

‘Lauren!’

It’s Thursday morning and Rafe’s voice echoes under the vaulted roof of the Lodge gate. My heart sinks but I have no choice but to stop.

‘Oh, hello, Professor Rafe.’

‘I’m so glad I caught you. How are you?’

I manage a smile. ‘OK.’

He frowns. ‘You don’t look it. You’re very pale, if you don’t mind me saying. Not going down with fresher’s flu, I hope?’

‘No, nothing like that. I was going out for some, um … breakfast.’

Rafe raises his eyebrows and I realize just made a big mistake. The truth is I’ve had very little sleep, partly because Alexander and I spent half the night having sex before he left at dawn to get some work done. I was hoping to do the same before I head off for Falconbury this afternoon.

‘A late one, eh? Well, it’s never a good idea to skip breakfast.’

‘No, of course not.’ I’m itching to get away.

‘Actually, I’ve been meaning to catch you before our tutorial tomorrow morning. How’s the essay going? I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts on Klimt’s involvement with the
Wiener Secession
.’

Oh fuck. I’d forgotten about the tute. Tomorrow I’ll be at Falconbury. I daren’t tell him.

‘Oh, yes. I mean, of course. The essay’s going pretty well.’

‘Good. I shouldn’t say this, but I dread some tutes; however, you’re different. You always have such, ah, original ideas that I relish our times together. You’re also so reliable and punctual, unlike some people I could mention. I really want to discuss the vacation reading list
and our plans for next term before you go back to the States.’

My head swims a little. I’m going to have to tell him I can’t make it tomorrow after all, but what excuse can I give? I feel uneasy at missing a tute, even for Alexander.

‘You
do
look rather pale. Why don’t we go and get a bite to eat? Blackwell’s coffee shop is only two minutes away. Perhaps I could treat you to a pain au chocolat and cappuccino in there. Neutral territory and all that.’