I touched his face, my palms against his cheeks in just the way he usually held mine. I dared to look into his eyes and I found him there, the same Darren I'd loved all those years ago.
The same Darren who'd loved me so fucking hard it hurt.
I loved the way it hurt.
He was like a fucking hurricane, and this was dangerous. So fucking dangerous.
"Gonna come," he said. "Fuck, Jo … fuck."
I held his face firm, wanting to see it, wanting to see every moment of pleasure on his face. He closed his eyes and held his breath, the slap of skin on skin so fucking loud as he emptied his balls inside me.
Only it wasn't inside me.
Fuck, how I loved to watch him come. I loved every second of rapture on his face as he rode the climax right the way to the end.
I smiled as he collapsed onto me, his skin hot and sweaty, his heart beating fast. I wrapped my arms around him and I could feel it. I could feel everything.
He stayed inside me, just breathing, his cheek to my cheek until he calmed.
When he raised his head again he was smiling, eyes warm as they fixed on mine.
"Just like riding a fucking bike," he said.
"I don't feel well," Mia said. "I'm sick."
I pressed a hand to her forehead. "You don't feel hot."
"But I am!"
"You seemed fine last night." I put my hand on her shoulder and she was tense. "Are you really sick, or is this Monday-morning-itis?"
She shook her head, pulled away from me and grabbed her school bag. "I dunno," she said.
At least she was honest about it.
I looked at the clock – almost time to go.
"Mia, if there's a reason you don't want to go to school today … "
"I'm fine," she said. "I want to go to school. It's nothing."
I'd been keeping an eye on her for days, any sign of school problems and I'd have been on it like a shot, but I'd seen nothing. Heard nothing.
She'd seemed happy. She'd seemed totally herself, laughing away to Daisy on Skype like life was roses.
"Do you want to stay home with Nanna?" I asked. "I've got extra hours this morning, but I can be home by lunchtime if you're not well. I'm sure Lorraine would call in cover if I asked her."
She sighed. "No, Mum, it's cool. I've got an English test, anyway." I stared at her until she met my eyes. "I'm good, Mum, I don't even feel sick now."
The time was ticking. Even Ruby was ready to go, which meant we were certainly cutting it fine.
"I'll go to school," she said. "Really, I'm good. Me and Daisy are doing maths revision at lunch."
"Ok," I said. "But if you feel ill at all you make sure you head up to medical and I'll come and pick you up. Deal?"
"Deal," she said.
We piled out to the car and I felt uneasy, but Mia busied herself on her phone and gave no indication that anything was really off with her. I dropped her at the bus stop and watched her join the crowd, making sure I hovered in the pull-in long enough to keep an eye out.
She seemed fine, still tapping away on her phone without any sign of stress or illness. Maybe it was a five-minute blip. Maybe she was old enough to be getting her period. Maybe she slept funny.
Who could possibly know?
It appeared big-eared Ruby Trent could know.
"It's Tyler Dean," she announced when we were on our way. "He had tonsillitis. He's back today. Probably."
My stomach dropped. The kid with the glasses, the kid I'd been keeping an eye out at the bus stop for and hadn't seen hide nor hair of. The kid I'd asked Mia about time after time and got nothing back from her but bravado and he's just a stupid idiot who calls me stupid names and shrugs.
"You heard this from Skype, did you?"
Ruby nodded, her smile smug. She leaned forward from the backseat until her belt strained. "Don't worry, Mum. I've been keeping an eye on things."
"Oh, you have, have you?" I said. "And this is the first you thought to share the details of your covert operation?"
She shrugged. "Mia's already mad at me for telling Dad he's a gigolo. She said if I say anything else I'm banned from her bedroom, and she has a better TV than me."
Priorities.
"Mia can be mad at you all she wants," I said. "We don't have secrets in our house, understand? If something's going on we talk about it."
Unless it's me booty-calling your father. We definitely won't be talking about that little secret.
My tummy was a fluttery mess again, ridiculous.
I considered turning the car around and driving Mia right up to the school gates, but the bus would likely have been already. I marked it down for an urgent after-school chat and left it at that.
There were no awkward little chats to be had with Miss Davies today, which was something at least. The real awkwardness still loomed ahead in the form of the ladies who lunch brigade, minus me since I was working instead.
I'd seen the invite in the group chat. Meeting as usual.
Oh the joy.
The thought of seeing Mandy Taylor's conceited grin made me cringe, but at least I was in line for the same privileges, and I'd got my first decent fucking in years on the back of her big running mouth, which had to be a good thing, even if it was a crazy one-off.
It was definitely a one-off. An awkward farewell outside mine had been the last I'd seen of Darren. No calls, no texts, no Casanova howling outside my bedroom window. But why would there be?
Of course there wouldn't be.
We'd said sex, no biggie. I guess he'd meant it.
I'd meant it, too.
I'd totally meant it.
He'd probably banged half the village since then – maybe even Mandy Taylor herself, who fucking knows?
I guessed I'd find out with the rest of the Velvet Bean soon enough.
"Aye aye, here she comes." Buck slapped the car bonnet over my head.
My stomach did a sappy flip at the thought he might mean Jodie, but of course he didn't.
Jimmy O let out a piss-poor catcall and it told me all I needed to know.
There it was. The rumble of the fucking Porsche grew louder. Bollocks.
No fucking way. Not today.
I'd told Eleanor Hartwell no Mondays. I'd told Eleanor Hartwell to call ahead first.
The problem with Eleanor Hartwell is that she's too fucking used to flashing the old man's gold card and getting her own way.
"I want a go on her today," Jimmy leered. "I'm gagging for a ride on blondie. Hugh can do the next pick-up on his fucking own, I'm staying here and getting a look in."
I jabbed a finger in his direction. "You'll be doing whatever I fucking tell you to do. Don't like it, you can take your wages owed and get the fuck out of here."
He raised his hands. "Take a bastard chill-pill, boss. Just setting my pissing stall out."
Petey was grinning at the Porsche like a dope, dick already tenting his fucking pants. The lad needed to cut his teeth a little and calm it down. His pump and go technique was alright for so long, but the novelty of being young and fit wouldn't last forever. Especially not for women like this one.
Eleanor was wearing pink today, one of those celebrity style tracksuits and shades. To be honest, I thought she looked like a prize-fucking tit, but what would I know?
"Boys," she said, that big dirty smile on her face. She lowered her shades as she looked in my direction. "Trent."
I didn't have time for this shit.
"We're busy," I told her. "Monday mornings are busy, Eleanor, like I fucking said last week. Was I talking to myself, or what?"
She shrugged, flicked her hair. "And, like I said, I don't mind paying for a priority service." She pulled out another fat envelope. "Ted was out all weekend, didn't even call. Turned up last night drunk on vintage champers and pissed in the laundry hamper. I think I deserve a good time on the back of all his shit, paying for it is the least he can do." She sidled up to me, ran a manicured fingernail up my arm. "Please, Trent. I promise I'll be good."
I sighed. "What do you want?"
"You," she said, like fucking always. "You and the big guy, unless you can give me the afternoon?"
Déjà fucking vu. I shook my head. "No can do, Eleanor. Got too much shit on already." I stepped away from her and grabbed my keys from the side. "I'm off out," I said. "Got some parts to collect." I gestured to the guys, all of them standing around like a bunch of horny cunts. "Take your pick of the others, but you'll have to be done and gone by the time I'm back. Got customers here at lunch."
Her face dropped, pouty lips pursing like a puckered asshole. "But Trent … I was hoping … "