Trust Me (Beggar's Choice #2) (20 page)

“You have a crumb on your lip,”
he says gesturing, and then before I can brush it off he leans forward slowly
giving me the chance to stop him but I don’t, and his lips meet mine. At first
he’s heartbreakingly gentle, moving his full lips which are so soft gently over
my lips almost as if he’s memorizing the shape, and I stay still feeling the
warmth of the sun hitting my face and the breeze moving my hair. Then his
tongue comes out and he traces my lip removing the crumb and tasting me
leisurely. I part my lips on a sigh and he slides his tongue in and I taste the
sweetness of the sugar and his own minty taste. I send my own tongue out to
tangle with his and then the kiss changes texture.

He groans and lifting his hands
he grabs the back of my head and directs where he wants my mouth to go, all the
while entwining our tongues. I moan into his open mouth and he pauses for a
second his breath falling on my face, and my eyes open to see him looking at
me, his eyes impossibly blue in the sunlight. Then he closes his eyes, leans
forward and slants his mouth over mine and this time he takes. He pulls me
close demandingly so that my breasts rest against his firm chest and the kiss
goes wild with both of us struggling to get even closer. I don’t know what we
would have done because we are both lost at this point but a wolf whistle
recalls us to our surroundings. Opening my eyes reluctantly I see a man on a
bike shoot past shouting something to Sid who smiles crookedly.

“What did he say?” I ask huskily,
and he turns back to me his eyes dilating as he looks at my lips which I know
are swollen.

“He says get a room,” he relates,
his voice hoarse. I raise my eyebrows at him and he inhales sharply. “Soon,” he
says throatily. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

I turn to him biting him on the
neck and then sucking gently, relishing the feeling of his groan through my
lips, and hearing the mutters from the girls nearby. “Don’t,” I say in a low
voice and he pulls me close and we stand there for a long minute, both of us
knowing that we’re standing on the edge of something and ready to jump in.

Finally he stirs. “Come on. We’re
going to meet the others for dinner before you mark that skin of yours
forever.”

“Don’t you approve?”

He looks at me astonished. “Babe
I’ve got tattoos all over me so I obviously like them. It’s just the thought of
you showing bare skin at some other man. Drives me mad.”

“Sid, are you a jealous person?”
I ask, astonished.

“I never used to be.” He looks
slightly worried. “But I definitely am now. I don’t know why.” His words linger
in the air all the way back to the hotel, and I try frantically not to let
myself hope too much.

By the time we get back to the
hotel we’re just in time to get changed before we meet the others at the
restaurant. He leaves me at my door with what was intended to be a quick kiss
but turns into a lingering make out session, which is only stopped by Bram
walking past and offering to film us for the local news.

I shower and blow dry my hair
into its overlong wavy bob, and then deliberate over what to wear. I finally
decide on a little sleeveless dress that I got from a vintage clothing store on
the King’s Road. It’s very 50’s looking, made of a heavy black material with
tan coloured splatters of colour all over the top and a tulip shaped skirt
which ends mid-thigh. I team it with a close fitting black cardigan and because
I’m intending to get a tattoo I slip on some opaque hold ups and my black
ballet flats. I’m examining the dress and whether the hem is too high for the
hold ups when there’s a knock on the door and my mind is made up by Sid’s
expression when he sees me. His eyes darken and he makes a sudden lunge at me
which I deflect laughing. “Come on feed me Hudson, I’m starving. Then take me
to get myself permanently marked.” Grumbling and rearranging himself he grabs
my hand and whirls me out of the room.

The restaurant that they’ve
chosen is in a cellar with stone steps down and brick walls with low ceilings.
The lighting is low and mainly made up of hundreds of candles and in the
background I can hear Grace Jones
singing ‘La
Vie en Rose’. The others are all waiting and I slip into the chair next to Mabe
while Sid slides in next to me, accepting some low voiced piss taking from Bram
about attempting to mount women in hotel corridors to which he responds by
lifting his middle finger and whisking my coat away from me to give to the
hovering waiter.

We’re attracting a lot of glances
already but I don’t know whether it’s because we’re a big group that’s quite
loud, or because they’ve been recognised, but I see several women walk past a
few times so I think it’s the latter. However, they leave us alone and soon
we’re sipping drinks and waiting for our food. “What have you done today,” Mabe
asks, putting her drink down and running her fingers over Charlie’s hand which
is seemingly stapled to her thigh while he talks to Seth.

“We went all over the place. Sid
took me to the Keukenhof Gardens this morning and then into Haarlem for lunch.”

“That was romantic. I’ve always
wanted to see them but never had the time when we’ve been here before. Did you
like it?”

“It was beautiful,” I say softly.
“I’ll definitely remember it when this is all over.”

I feel Sid stiffen next to me and
when Mabe turns to answer a question from Seth he leans in talking low so that
the others can’t hear us. “When what’s over?” he asks harshly.

I look at him unsure what this is
and then shrug. “The tour? Us? Both of them I suppose. They’re both going to
come to an end.” I’m trying for a casual voice because I know anything more
will make him shy away but he stiffens.

“Really? You’re very casual all
of a sudden,” he hisses.

I look at him blindsided but
finally settle for an offhand tone that costs me dear. “Not casual so much as
realistic. You do remember telling me that this thing between us can’t come to
anything don’t you Sid?”

“Oh, I remember. I just
thought that
you
had a longer attention span. I’ve not even got in your
knickers yet but it sounds like you can’t wait for me to move on.” His chest is
rising and falling rapidly and he looks furious. I open my mouth to reassure
him but unfortunately I don’t do it fast enough because he goes for the
jugular.  “You were singing a different tune earlier when I had a job
keeping your hands out of my pants, but you know what Nell it doesn’t matter.
You jog on babe, because at the end of the day you’re just one woman out of
many. I know several women in Amsterdam alone that’ll take a lot less work than
you,
and
they’ll drop their knickers at the first phone call without
needing any sweet talking.”

I’m struck dumb as he actually
gets out his phone and starts scrolling through his contacts, while I sit
feeling like he’s just punched me. I’ve got a feeling that I’ve just hurt him
in some way but what was I supposed to say? I’m just following the guidelines
that he laid down and he shits all over me as his reply.

Suddenly I’m very angry and I stand
up abruptly. “Excuse me,” I say to Mabe who moves her chair looking at me
questioningly, but I ignore her look and taking my bag I walk out of the room.
Following the signs for the toilets I let myself into the first one and rest my
hands on the sink, looking at my reflection. My face is white and my lips pale
while my eyes are huge and dark. Shaking my head I blow out a breath and try to
calm myself.

The door opens suddenly and I
move back to let the other person through but gasp when I see Sid. “What are
you doing in here?” I gasp but he says nothing. Instead he slams the door
closed, propping his foot against it to stop anyone entering, and then he pulls
me sharply to him and slams his lips down on mine. I pull his hair trying to
get him away from me. I’m so angry that I want to hit him but I settle for
biting his lip hard. He pulls back wincing but then he smiles almost
admiringly.

“Bitch,” he says in a guttural
voice and then I don’t know what happens but we slam into each other and go
wild. Our hands pull at each other while I’m groaning and he’s grunting, and
the anger has transformed into this mad, insane need to climb him and have him
inside me. Pulling the skirt of my dress up he almost throws me onto the
surface by the sink, and then pushes in between my legs curling them around him
so that his cock hits me straight on. “Yeah fuck,” he mutters. “Nell baby.
My
baby.” He pushes his hand up my thigh and finding my knickers he shoves them to
one side and runs his finger through my wetness. Pulling back he looks at me,
panting hard while he puts his fingers in his mouth and sucks, closing his eyes
briefly, and then he lowers his hand to his fly tearing at the zip. I wriggle
on the surface pulling my knickers down and he moves towards me only to have the
door which he’s forgotten to prop shut, swing inwards and smack him on the
back.

An old woman appears looking
rather perturbed and obviously thinking that she might have got the wrong room
until she sees me frozen in embarrassment, practically sitting in the sink,
while Sid stands there holding his jeans up with one strong hand. The silence
stretches for what seems like a couple of days until finally she closes her
eyes and says something sharp in Dutch. Backing out of the toilet she leaves us
in what feels like suspended animation until I remember myself and jump down,
hopping about trying to get my knickers on again while he zips himself back up,
wincing painfully as he tucks his erection away. “Fuck,” he mutters, shaking
his head. “I feel like I’m fucking fifteen and I’ve just been caught by my
grandma.”

“What do you think she said?” I
say, trying not to giggle.

“She said that I should be
ashamed of myself and wasn’t there somewhere more sanitary that I could take my
young lady. She followed it up by saying that we young men are all randy fools
led by our penises.”

I lose the fight against laughter
and break into a fit of giggles while he smiles at me, our animosity
temporarily forgotten. “Wait, you speak Dutch?” He’d spoken a little today but
I thought it just stretched to him ordering food.

He shakes his head but humours
me. “Dutch, German, some Spanish and a little bit of French. Nell stop.” He
puts out his hand to stop me from leaving the room and I still. “Earlier on …” He
pauses, and I look straight ahead, instantly feeling the pain again which I’d
forgotten. “I’m sorry,” he says harshly. He takes my head between his hands
gently and looks deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I didn’t mean any
of that.”

“What, the bit about knowing
women that would be less work and put out instantly, or the bit where you were
going to ring them up?” I ask coldly.

“I wasn’t.” His eyes are fierce.
“I wouldn’t.” He hesitates. “I
couldn’t
.”

“Why?” I whisper.

“I don’t see anyone else Nell.
All I see, all I want, is
you
.”

“You can’t threaten me with
things like that Sid. Why did you say it?”

“I don’t know,” he says but his
eyes shift and I know that he’s concealing something. I also know that I won’t
get anything from him unless he lets me.

“You can’t do that Sid. If you’re
angry with me tell me so that we can talk, or obviously do what we just did
because that works for us too.” He smirks but it fades when I get close and say
firmly. “But if you ever do that again, threatening me with other women, then I
really will go and I won’t come back.”

He closes his eyes briefly as if
that thought pains him, and then he nods and kisses my forehead. “Come on, the
food will be ready.”

We escape fairly lightly when we
get back to the table as the food has arrived. Well I say fairly lightly but
that’s if you don’t count Bram banging his hands on the table and proclaiming
loudly, “That’s what I’m talking about. Fucking two women in the toilets -
that’s rock and roll Sid. Even if one of your partners in ménage was an old
aged pensioner, we want you to know that we’re not judging you.”

For the rest of the meal Sid
completely ignores his customary distance from me and openly runs his hand
through my hair or kisses my neck. I see Mabe smile at us a few times but
Charlie just looks at him blank faced as if he’s examining him.

Finally, when the meal is
finished and the boys have signed autographs, we emerge from the restaurant
blinking in the cold air. I shiver despite the fact that I’m wearing the coat
that Sid bought me, and he throws his arm around me drawing me into his warmth.
“How far is it to the tattoo place?” I ask through chattering teeth.

“A couple of streets away,” Bram
says pulling the collar up on his coat and looking more like a model than a rock
star. He leads the way because Sid patently doesn’t remember how to get there,
and I look around in interest at Amsterdam at night. With the juxtaposition of
the noisy bars, the bright lights and the old gabled houses it’s like an
elegant old lady sharing space with a tramp.

Finally, we pitch up outside a
brightly graffitied tattoo parlour where Bram rings the doorbell and for good
measure pounds on the door. Suddenly it swings open letting rich light fall out
onto us. “Fuck off Bram,” I hear a deep voice mutter. “Give a man a chance.”

“A chance to do what?” asks Bram.

“Me,” purrs a feline voice, and a
beautiful redhead squeezes past the shadow of the man. “Later lover,” she
shouts and he raises a hand in farewell cupping her bum as she moves past him.

“You old dog,” Bram says
admiringly.

“Takes one to know one,” the deep
voice says. “Well come the fuck in the lot of you,” and we pile in, blinking in
the light. I look around curiously. It’s a huge place, open plan with about ten
cubicles, and the walls are full of very arty shots of tattoos on large
canvasses. The Prodigy’s ‘Firestarter’ is blaring from the stereo but the place
is deserted.