True Colours:The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2(17)

'Good decision.'

He picks up the pace again, keeping it going this time, and while my  muscles tense around him, I watch as his pupils dilate and his lips  part. Finally, his breathing begins to unravel. His grip tightens  against my buttocks and I can barely hold it any longer. As his thrusts  reach their peak, he empties himself inside me, and a pin prick of heat  at my core explodes. My vagina contracts, clenching at his cock as he  pumps into me. I'm shaking now, crying out incoherently while he slows  the movement, shuddering his way down from his orgasm. Quaking in his  grasp, I'm silenced with a kiss. When I'm finally released, I struggle  to control my lungs.

'You're a devious pig,' I gasp.         

     



 

Saying nothing, he bites back a grin as he pulls out of me.

And I'm in a stupor. Closing my eyes, I melt into the sheet, thoroughly  contented and utterly exhausted. He's reaching over me now and I already  know what he's doing, and I just don't care. I hear the beeps as he  calls up a contact on his mobile.

'Carla, I need you to do something for me.' He's silent for a few  seconds, listening to the voice at the other end of the line. 'Never  mind about that. I want everything of Maya's moved to my apartment  …  as  soon as possible. Arrange for a removal company. Invoice it to me  personally. Call Clive for her friend's number and liaise.'

He ends the call and I open my eyes, watching as he slides the phone back onto the bedside table.

'Done.'

He leans across me, unfastens the cuffs and lies back, opening his arms  in a silent invitation. Loving the smell of his sweat, the warmth of his  body wrapped around mine, I shuffle into his embrace. I'm in heaven,  and it may well be perfect, but I've still got a point to make.

'I'm not having total strangers going through my stuff,' I grumble.

'Lucy's going through your stuff. She's not a total stranger.'

'I want to go home and sort it out. And I need clean knickers.'

He lands another gentle kiss on my nose.

'Take the ones you've got, turn them inside out and wear them for another day.'

'God.'

'Besides, you don't need knickers at the minute.' He grins mischievously  and slides a hand underneath the sheet. 'See how easy it is living with  me?'



The smell of something mouth-watering wafts through the apartment,  snaking its way up into the bedroom. I can barely concentrate on trying  to tug a brush through my hair, I'm so hungry. Half an hour ago he left  me with orders to shower and dress appropriately for breakfast. And now,  with those orders duly followed, I've donned yet another of his white  shirts and I'm ravenous. Finally satisfied that my hair's in some sort  of order, I make my way downstairs. Passing through the living area, I  cast a quick look at the chess set, recalling the shadows of last night,  thankful that they've been pushed aside by the morning's shenanigans.  And then I come to a halt, stopped in my tracks by the sight of Dan.  Dressed in grey joggers and a T-shirt, he's busy at the hob. I take a  moment to admire his backside before sidling over to him and slipping an  arm around his waist.

'Smells good.'

On tip-toes, I peck him on the cheek. He's not shaved yet and there's a  smattering of stubble on his chin. Suddenly, I'm not quite so hungry. In  fact, suddenly, thanks to the rough and ready look, I'm feeling quite  horny.

'Stop staring.' He turns off the gas. 'You're making me all self-conscious.'

'I can't help it. My boyfriend's a fucking gorgeous sex god.'

'Just for the record, I'm not your boyfriend, I'm the man you live with.'

'Yada, yada, yada.'

'Go and sit down.'

Releasing him, I take my place on a stool and push his mobile to one  side. Almost as soon as I move it, it begins to vibrate. Norman's name  appears on the front screen.

'He's ringing you again. Norman. Is he always this persistent?'

'Just lately, yes.' He brings the frying pan over to the breakfast bar.  'The closure at Tyneside. Don't get me wrong, I admire the man, but  bloody hell he can flap.'

'Why doesn't he just text?'

Dan shakes his head. 'I've showed him how to do it more than once. It's like trying to teach a fish to tap dance.'

With a giggle, I think of Norman: a kindly man, nothing more or less  than a colossal teddy bear. He doesn't deserve to be ignored.

'You should call him back.'

'I'm on holiday.' He points a spatula at the phone. 'And he knows that.'

'Then it must be important.'

'I'll call him later.'

Tipping a pancake onto each of the plates, he nods at the bottle of  maple syrup. I pick up a fork and glance at the window, noticing that  it's open. Outside, it's begun to rain again.

'Hang on a minute,' I remark. 'Those doors are open.' I don't know why I'm so surprised.

'Uh huh.' He's back at the sink now, dumping the pan in a bowl of water. 'Eat it while it's hot.'

'But why are they open?'

'Because I like the sound of the rain.'

Okay, so maybe that was the wrong question.

'How are they open? I thought Clive had all the keys.'         

     



 

'Oh, about that  … ' He shrugs. 'Turns out I was wrong. Tea or coffee?'

'I drink tea in the morning. A fact you should know.'

'And now I do.' He flicks on the kettle, takes a mug and a teabag out of  the cupboard and sets about making me a drink. 'So, what do you want to  do today?'

Leaving the kettle to boil, he comes back to the counter.

'Seeing as you've locked us in, we haven't got that much choice.'

'Oh  …  about that.' Reaching into his jogger pockets, he produces a set of keys.

'You bastard.'

He throws the keys onto the counter and gives me a smile, one of his lop-sided specials.

'Are we good?'

I glare at him for as long as I can, and then the glare disintegrates. I just can't be angry with him, and he knows it.

'We're very good.' I take a mouthful of food.

Sitting down beside me, he sets about drizzling syrup onto his pancake  and devouring it. I'm just about half way through my breakfast when I'm  suddenly distracted by his iPad. There it is, sitting in plain sight,  right next to the fruit bowl.

'And what's that doing there?'

'I had a bit of work to do. Turns out it wasn't in the car at all.'

Without batting an eyelid, he leans over, cuts off a slice of my  pancake, drizzles it in syrup and brings it to my lips. As soon as I  open my mouth, he slides the pancake in, grinning mischievously, moving  the fork about so that syrup dribbles down my chin.

'Oh, oh,' he murmurs. 'I'd better clear that up.'

Dropping the fork, he brings an arm around my back, pulling me in while  he licks away the syrup. And then he moves upwards. It's a good job I've  chewed furiously and swallowed because before I know it, he's homing in  for a kiss. As soon as our lips make contact, his mobile begins to ring  again.

'Oh, for fuck's sake.' Swiping up the phone, he checks the screen and  answers. 'Norman. What is it?' He listens intently for a minute or two,  his expression clouding. 'When?' Turning away, he listens some more.  When he finally speaks again, his voice has softened. 'And where is she  now?'

My brain begins to tumble. I have no idea what's going on, but I'm suddenly wondering if it's something to do with Betty.

'I'm on my way.' His shoulders slump. 'Don't worry. I'll deal with it. Leave her where she is.'

He ends the call. Still facing away, he stares out of the window. I  touch his arm and when he turns back to me, I'm shocked by the sadness  in his eyes.

'What's the matter?' I ask.

He shakes his head.

'Dan?'

'It's Molly.'

'Your dog?'

He nods. And then he takes a breath.

'She's dead.'





Chapter Nine


It's a relief when we leave the M25. After spending the best part of an  hour in Dan's Mercedes, gripping the seat and staring out of the  windscreen at a mess of spray and tail lights, I can finally relax. As  we begin to wind our way through the Surrey countryside, I peel my hands  away from the leather. My attention shifts from the road in front of us  to the man I love.

Delectable in faded jeans and a white shirt, open at the collar, he's  fully focussed on driving, checking his rear view mirror more frequently  than necessary, but now that we're off the motorway, he's clearly  beginning to relax a little too. Taking his left hand away from the  steering wheel, he rests it on my thigh, setting off a flurry of lust  right at my core. He's probably not in the mood for a bit of filth right  now, but it's hardly my fault I've been transformed into a shameless  floozy. I'm about to hitch up Lucy's dress and guide his hand further  towards my crotch when he breaks the silence.

'Listen  …  I've organised a bodyguard for you.'

Oh, for God's sake. I thought he'd forgotten about that. The last thing I need is a burly piece of meat shadowing me.

'A bodyguard?'

'Don't act so surprised.' He checks the mirrors again. 'I told you I'd do this.'

I scowl at him, pointlessly, because he doesn't look my way.

'I need to go back to work tomorrow,' he explains. 'When I'm not around, you'll need protection.'

'From what?'

I catch a glance.

'Boyd.'

I tut, roll my eyes. 'You scared him away. I don't need a bodyguard.'

'Don't play this down, Maya. It's just for the time being. He starts tomorrow morning.'

The hand leaves my thigh, and I miss it immediately. Changing down a  gear, he flicks the indicators and takes a right onto the driveway of  the house. We creep through the canopy of trees, rattling further along  the gravel until the trees give way to the lawn and the house slides  into view. Drawing to a halt, he silences the engine and squints up at  the three storeys of Georgian splendour.