Dirty Bad Wrong(73)
James raised his eyebrows. “And then?”
“And then I was fucking kissing her,” she sighed. “I have no idea how the pissing fucking crap it happened. I was kissing her, and pulling her hair, and telling her how much I fucking hated her, and then there was Cara in the fucking cubicle doorway, and she looked so fucking sad.”
“Did you go after her?” I asked, squeezing James’ hand under the duvet.
“She’d already gone,” she said. “And Cara still lives with her parents, I didn’t want to be rocking up there like some deviant Casanova, howling at her window. I went home with Jaz and we argued until morning.”
“And now, what? You regret it?” James quizzed. “Has our little Cara wormed her way into your cold heart, Mistress Raven?”
“You’re hardly in a position to take the piss, James Clarke,” she laughed. “And yeah, maybe she has.”
“Call her,” I said. “Put it right, say it was a one-off, and you’re sorry.”
“I tried,” she admitted. “Straight to voicemail. We agreed this shit was casual, now we’re all over the fucking place.”
“Casual has a habit of rolling that way,” James smiled.
“Doesn’t it fucking just?” She rolled her eyes. “Weird how it can take a stupid bloody cock-up to make you realise how much you give a shit, don’t you think?”
“Amen to that,” James said, tickling my thigh under the duvet. “So, which of our fucked-up little threesome is putting the kettle on?”
None of us jumped to volunteer.
***
I saw James out after breakfast, lingering in the doorway while he checked he’d picked up his phone, his keys, his wallet… I got the slightest suspicion that he was dawdling as much as I was, unsure of what to say from here.
“Thanks for staying,” I said. “I enjoyed it.”
“Me too. It wasn’t all that bad for a foray into domesticity.”
“Maybe one day we’ll do it again,” I smiled.
“Stranger things have happened, Lydia Marsh.” He leant down to kiss me, countering the romance by twisting my nipple through my cami. “I know you want more, Cat, more of this.” He tipped his head towards the flat, towards the slice of normality we’d had together. “But please go softly on an old man set in his ways. I propose dinner, next Saturday. I’ll pick you up before Explicit. I’ll give you dinner, in exchange for a little gesture.” His eyes were hooded and glazed, his cock already swollen in his jeans.
I teased him with my palm. “What do you want in exchange?”
He kissed my ear, his breath loud and hot. “I’ll take you out, Cat, if you’ll piss in my mouth next weekend.”
I pulled away in shock, blinking up at him. “Are you serious?!”
“Deadly, and don’t act so surprised. I could have asked for a lot more, and I will. Believe me, Lydia, I’ll ask you for a lot more than that.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it,” I said. “I can’t imagine it.”
“Dinner in exchange for drinks, Cat, that’s my proposition.”
“You actually want to drink my pee, that’s what you’re saying?” I was already burning up, I could feel it.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he smiled. “Will you piss for me, Lydia, yes or no? The clock’s ticking.”
I jittered nervously from one foot to another, stomach in knots.
“I’m sorry, Miss Marsh, but I’m going to have to push you for an answer…”
“Ok, yes,” I said, before I could stop myself. “But I’m not sure I’m going to return the favour and guzzle down any of yours, I’m pretty sure that’s a hard limit of mine.”
He smiled, and it was the smile of the beast, dark and horny and dirty as sin. He backed away, retreating onto the street. “We’ll find out, Lydia,” he growled. “I think you may surprise yourself.”
I hoped he wouldn’t hold his breath. The idea was squicky as hell, nearly squicky enough to stop me jilling myself crazy over it later, but only nearly.
***
Lydia
Even with Salmons eating healthily into our work schedule the week really dragged. It dragged in a way I’d never felt before, not once since I’d been working with James. I guessed it was the contrast, the glimpse of what could be outside of that place, with its corporate mentality and it’s hush-hush agreement.
Work was undeniably different, regardless of how hard we tried. We kept our business-as-normal front on it, but things had definitely changed. There was something more in his eyes than the previous sheen of professional camaraderie, something deeper and darker and much more raw. Maybe he saw it in my eyes, too, I don’t know.