Beautiful Beast(20)

He chuckles. ‘Do you know you blushed through our entire first time?’

‘How could you tell? We did it in the pitch dark,’ I retort.

‘Snow,’ he says caressing my name like a kiss. ‘You were at least two shades darker.’

‘And you … you … panted through our entire first time,’ I lie.

‘Sometimes you make me feel so cheap,’ he says with a sexy grin.

‘I doubt any woman could make you feel cheap,’ I reply.

He moves closer to me and for a heart stopping moment he hovers over my mouth. A pulse throbs at his throat and sexual energy glimmers off him like a heatwave. His fingers seek the hem of my skirt and push it upwards.

‘You are a strange combination, Snow. Enormous, butter-wouldn’t-melt eyes and a slutty mouth built for suckin’ cock,’ he says, lust thickening his voice. ‘All I want to do is fuck you all the fucking time.’

And to my shock I actually feel like standing up, wrapping my thighs around his hips and impaling myself on his big, hard cock. Wet lust quickly flowers between my legs at the thought.

But he pulls away from me with a frown. ‘What do you want to do this afternoon, Snow? Go back into town? I could take you around the sights if you want. Or take you shopping.’

There is so little time left of our weekend together. I may never see him again. I don’t want to waste these last few hours in town and certainly not shopping. ‘I want to stay here. I want to swim with you, and then … I want to end up in your bed.’

His strong hand reaches down and curls around my wrist and he pulls me up. We run up the grand curving staircase up to his bedroom where he flings me on his bed, rips off my clothes, and thrusts into me urgently, as if he can’t wait another second.

‘Your pussy fits around my dick like a fucking glove,’ he growls.

He does not stop all afternoon until sweat runs down his curving muscles and I am so exhausted and sore I have to beg him to stop.





Eighteen


SNOW

We arrive in London at ten past nine and clear Customs as simply and easily as we had in France. We reach the car park quickly and come to a stop in front of a muscular red Camarro with white racing stripes on the bonnet. I know hardly anything about cars, but this one is one of those fire-breathers specially built for dangerous speeds.

‘Is this your car?’ I ask incredulously.

‘If it’s not, then we’re about to become car thieves,’ he says, holding open the passenger door for me.

‘Very impressive,’ I say, sliding into its plush black leather interior.

‘She’s a babe,’ he says closing my door.

Shane is very quiet in the car on the way to my house and in the tense silence I start to feel a knot of apprehension in my belly. All this while, seduced by the magic of Saumur, I had let myself totally forget Lenny, but now I am afraid that even though Shane said he had arranged it that Lenny will not call during the weekend, what if he did? I hate the thought of having to tell a whole pile of lies. But more than any of that is the sinking feeling that France was just a dream. It’s over.

This is reality. This is real life.

But I simply don’t want to go back to how it was before. I don’t want to feel Lenny’s body on top of me, using me to relieve his sexual urges. I feel sick even thinking about it. I am not the woman who left for Saumur. I’ve changed, and significantly.

We reach my apartment and I look down at my hands clenched hard in my lap. The silence is unbearable and I am dying to ask him if I will see him again, but what if this is it? If this is all our liaison is supposed to be?

‘You can turn on your phone now,’ he says, his voice empty and hard in silence.

I nod and look at him.

He seems so distant. Is he eager to get rid of me? Could it be that this was all an elaborate ploy just to sleep with me? Surely someone who looks like he does, doesn’t need to go to these unnecessary lengths. And yet he is so cold and unreachable it is as if he can’t wait to get rid of me. I feel tears start pricking the back of my eyes. I won’t cry in front of him again. I always knew he was conquering the world one pussy at a time so I shouldn’t be so hurt and I’m not so broken that I don’t have my pride still.

‘OK, thanks,’ I say quickly and reach for the door handle.

His large hand curls round my arm. I turn to look at him and he says, ‘Oh Fuck.’ And pulls me into his arm. ‘Don’t cry, Snow. Just go back to your apartment and he’ll call in the next thirty minutes. Just be normal and all will be well.’

I look up at him with confused eyes. ‘How do you know when he will call?’

He runs an agitated hand through his hair. ‘Because I arranged for two prostitutes to keep him busy until you were safely home.’

My mouth drops open. ‘You did what?’

‘It was the only way I could be sure he would not call while you were away. It was the only way I knew to keep you safe.’

I take a deep breath. ‘You did that for me?’

He turns away from me and, staring ahead, grips the steering wheel. ‘It’s no big deal, Snow. Just go. And answer his damn call and … be as normal as you can, OK?’

‘OK,’ I whisper and, getting out, I slam the door closed and run into my apartment building without ever looking back. As I get through my front door I hear his car blast away, the tires screeching madly around the corner.

SHANE

I take my foot off the gas as I come up to the next red light. Fuck. My fingers drum on the dashboard. I rest my elbow on the window of my car and squeeze my temples. I always knew she was something special. I turn my eyes and catch the gaze of a man in a seven series BMW. He shakes his head with distaste because I am unconsciously revving my thunderous V8 engine impatiently and it is annoying him.

‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ I snarl, and the little coward immediately stares straight ahead.

The light turns yellow and I hammer the gas pedal and fly off the mark. Up ahead I see a U-turn sign. I could take it. But that would be madness. Gritting my teeth I keep my foot on the accelerator. I pass it. I can’t believe how angry and resentful I feel. Soon I hit the motorway. For twenty minutes I drive. I know he will have called by now.

I hit the music and Lana Del Ray’s Summertime Sadness comes on.

My car eats up the miles and in my head I see only the expression on her face when I left her. I have just given her back to him. What the hell was I fucking thinking of? I feel bitter, as if I have been cheated. What I really want to do is drive back to her place right now and take back what is mine. Fuck the consequences. But a sane inner voice stops me. It is you who made these arrangements. This is the safe way. This way you get the girl and keep Lenny off both your backs.

My mind turns to her in the forest.

How sweetly she gave herself to me. I could have done anything to her and she would have let me. And the way she had looked at me with those big, green eyes full of trust and innocence when I took her little ass and made it mine. And then I think of that ugly fuck, Lenny, touching her. And I feel fire burn in my belly.

Fuck it.

I’m not fucking giving her up to him. Not even for one day. Fuck the safe way. Change of plan, asshole. She’s mine. She was mine from the moment I laid eyes on her.

SNOW

I close the door and the house is as silent as tomb. I take my little suitcase into my bedroom. The flowers I bought on Wednesday are dead. I put the suitcase on the bed and go back out to the living room. I sit on the sofa and put my mobile phone beside me and wait.

When the phone rings I jump. I take a deep breath and wait for the third ring before I pick it up.

‘Hello.’ He sounds like he is drunk or high. I’ve seen him take cocaine from the dining room table before. He’s even offered it to me, but I didn’t want to and he said, ‘You’re right. Maybe you shouldn’t. Your head’s fucked enough as it is.’

‘Hello,’ I say. My voice is beautifully normal. It appears I am just as capable of deceit as Lenny is. Still, Lenny never promised me fidelity. That was never in the cards.

‘How are you, luv?’

For some reason that endearment grates on my nerves. I’m not his luv and I never will be. ‘I’m fine,’ I reply.

‘Good. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Don’t forget I’m taking my girl out to a fancy restaurant tomorrow night.’

I feel a stab in my chest. I’m not his girl. He’s been with two prostitutes. Not that I care or ever cared. I just don’t want to sleep with him anymore. I don’t want to go out with him. I don’t want him to touch me. Ever again. I hear myself say, ‘OK.’

‘Right, I’ll call you when I touch down. Goodnight, Snow.’

‘Goodnight, Lenny.’

I kill the call and lay the phone down on the table. Tomorrow night looms on the horizon. What on earth am I going to do? Oh God! I cover my face with my hands. What a mess.

My phone rings again making me jump. I pick it up and look at the screen.

Number withheld.

My heart starts beating fast in my chest. I accept the call.

‘Hello,’ I say cautiously.

‘Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?’

My heart soars with joy. He called. He called. It isn’t over. Then reality hits. My heart sinks like a heavy stone inside my body. ‘I can’t go. I’ve already agreed to meet Lenny for dinner.’