‘You up for a fuck?’ I ask. There is a definite slur in my voice. An elongation of the vowels.
‘Is Fukushima leaking radiation?’
I fling off his t-shirt and hair trailing down my naked back, crawl around the food towards him.
He puts a dark hand on my pale exposed shoulder.
I push him to the ground and climb atop him. His strong hands curl around my ribs to keep my body steady as I impale myself on his cock. I know I’m tipsy and without a steady rhythm. Despite that, we come quickly. I lie on his body and listen to the dull beat of his heart. I love simply having him inside me.
‘I could fall asleep like this,’ I whisper.
‘Get on your hands and knees, woman.’
Hours later, the fire has burned down to embers and ashes. I lie weary and trembling beside him in the dark. I reach out a hand and touch him, a gesture that is both a question and reverent. My eyes are wide and filled with a strange new perspective, an awareness, an impossible intensity, as if I have never been truly or fully alive before.
‘I have to get back to London soon.’
He turns towards me, his face drugged and slack with desire. ‘Not yet. I’ve not had enough of you.’
‘Ahhhhh,’ I gasp, my juices splashing into his mouth.
TWENTY
Layla
‘I got the job,’ I crow into the phone.
He laughs. A good sound.
‘You are now talking to a member of Vincent & Prestige’s Studio’s team of interior designers. I start my first design and fit-out assignment on Monday!’
‘Want to celebrate over lunch?’
I feel the disappointment inside my body, like a wave passing through. ‘I can’t. I’m going shopping with my sister-in-law. We’re buying baby stuff.’
‘How’s Lily?’
‘She’s quietly freaking out after convincing Jake that she should have a totally natural childbirth in their bathtub. She’s actually going to give birth without an epidural! Apparently she’s going to be sucking on sugar pills the whole time. I told her I think she’s bananas. When I have a baby I want to be put out. And I don’t mean just an epidural. I mean general anesthetic. I don’t want to know nothing! Nada. I want to wake up to my husband holding a pink baby all clean and wrapped up in blankets.’
The silence on the other end is so thick you could have spread it on a slice of bread. Then it hits me how I must sound to him. A crazy woman banging on about babies three days after having sex with him. And with him being a player—yeah, even then I resisted the words junkyard dog.
‘Thank God it will be at least ten years before I am in such a position,’ I rush into the treacle of silence.
‘We should celebrate your job offer,’ he says evenly.
I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Yeah, we should,’ I agree.
‘Where do you want to go?’ he asks.
My response is immediate. No need to think about it. ‘Silver Lee.’
‘Don’t you want to go somewhere nice? It’s a celebration, after all.’
‘Nope. I still haven’t had a proper tour of your house, remember?’
Strike two. I hear his reluctance, like sandpaper on my skin. He doesn’t want to give me a tour. Why on earth not? ‘If you don’t want to it’s OK.’ Oh my God! I am becoming a doormat.
There is a pause. Then. ‘All right. I’ll show you around. Pick you up at 3:00?’
‘See you then.’
I slip into the passenger seat of BJ’s carbon-edition Aston Martin, close the door, and turn toward him. Wow! He’s rocking a sexy five o’clock shadow, which makes him look all moody and brooding. His eyes graze over me slowly, but being so dark they give nothing away.
‘Hi,’ I greet breathlessly.
He leans over and kisses me. I’ll say this for him: the man can kiss. In seconds I want to throw my arms around his neck, curl my fingers in his hair, and climb over to his side of the car to lower myself on to his thick cock. My skin tingles. My head starts buzzing. My hand strays to his hard chest.
‘What was that for?’ I whisper, when he breaks away.
His eyes are smoky with desire. He places his finger on my lower lip and drags it along my skin. His voice drops to a faux whisper that caresses my skin. ‘Because you’re so damn beautiful.’
I drop my eyes and go all hot and red with sheer happiness.
He places a finger under my chin and lifts my face. ‘Isn’t that what all the boys who aren’t afraid of your brother tell you?’
My stomach flips. ‘I think there are more boys afraid of my brother than you think.’
‘Since I’m not in the firing line yet, let me tell you, Layla. You’re one hell of a beauty.’