We didn’t come together, but it was close. Close enough.
Hands gripped my bruised thighs as he shot his load, groaning in feral victory as I squealed beneath him.
He collapsed on my chest, spent and slick with sweat and panting like a dog.
I teased his hair with my fingers, enjoying his hot breath on my tits.
“Fucking hell, Callum, that was so good.”
“You’re bleeding,” he said. “From my teeth.”
I didn’t care.
He got up from me sooner than I’d have liked, but I brushed it off, grabbing a towel and wandering through in a heady daze to flick the kettle on. He was dressed by the time he joined me. Eyes distant.
“Staying for a drink?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Gotta go.”
“So soon?”
“Casey’s alone, in Vick’s shed.”
“I see.” The atmosphere was tense. Real fucking awkward. He hovered for ages, eyes on the floor, and it took me a while to realise what he was waiting for. “Shit! Your money! Christ, I’m sorry.” I dashed into the bedroom and gathered it up, shoving it into his hands as he stared at me. “Count it, please. I’d hate if there was any missing.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine. “What’s this for?”
I smiled. “You’ve definitely earned it.”
His expression darkened. “Guess I did, yeah.” He shoved the notes in his pocket. “See you around.”
Fuck. He’d gone before I could even say goodbye.
***
“Jesus Christ, baby, you don’t do things by halves, do you.” Raven smiled, stubbing out her cigarette as the waitress delivered our coffees. “So, Roger is out, Savage is in?”
“Neither’s in at the moment,” I groaned. “Callum’s gone totally bloody AWOL.”
“AWOL?” she quizzed, perfect brows raised.
“Won’t answer his phone, no sign of him on the estate.” I sighed. “Avoiding me like the plague. He’s painting, though, work’s going ballistic about it, eating into next quarter’s budget just to keep it under control.”
“Is he any good?”
“Wouldn’t catch the maintenance team calling it art.” I handed her an envelope, stuffed full of photos I’d printed out at work when no one was looking. “What do you think?”
She flicked through the pictures, pausing on some for an age, eyes glittering. “He did these?”
“All of them, yeah.”
“Boy’s got skill,” she said.
“You think so? I mean, I think so, but I’m probably skewed. Supposed to be filing these for prosecution, vandalism.”
“That’s the fucking crime, right there. These are fucking incredible.” She turned a photo towards me, one of my favourites: a boy leaping, mid-flight, surrounded by twisted blades as he reaches for the sun. “Look at the lines... the colour...” She pointed to the swirls in the background. “That control, the care with which he layers the paint. Yet, it’s jagged, rushed... clearly done at speed. You can feel the passion... the soul... I fucking love it.”
I felt my cheeks burning. “Yeah, me too.”
“Guess you found your Mr Dangerous.”
“Found him and lost him.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up. You’re a hot chick, sassy as sin with a good head on your shoulders. What’s not to love?”
I sipped my coffee. “I’m old. He’s young. I live in my parents’ ivory tower, he’s on the street... do I need to continue?”
“Twenty fucking eight isn’t old, believe me, I’m counting on it. Anyway, a guy loves an older woman, I’m sure you can break him in, teach him a few tricks.”
“No need. He’s been around a bit, that much is totally obvious.”
“He’s good, then?”
I couldn’t hide the grin. “Rough, raw, dirty... really fucking good with his hands.”
She handed back the photos. “That figures.”
I looked her dead in the eye, girl to girl. “Shit, Raven, I’m losing the plot. I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Crushing is hardcore. Maybe that’s all it is.”
“Hope so.” I finished my coffee. “It’s just a sex thing. It has to be. I mean what the hell would we ever have in common? And can you even begin to imagine me taking him home to the family? Parading him around at some property event? Can just imagine Dad’s face if I dragged him along to the Southbank Art Centre opening, pissing on their snobby spectacle and blighting the family name. Alexandra would probably faint. Mum would probably cry.”
“Hey, enough of that. He’d belong there more than they would. That place isn’t just a fucking building, regardless of what your posh-arsed parents invested in it.”