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  I consider Will again and his attempts at keeping the atmosphere easy-breezy and light. He’s not all bad. Not that I’ll tell him. His ego is big enough already.

  ‘Insatiable Sadie,’ I mutter. ‘That’s me.’

  ‘No, you’re delectable Sadie. Sadie with the sweet smile and the sweet p—oof!’ I catch him with my elbow in the ribs. ‘I was going to say Sadie with the sweet patootie.’

  ‘Sure, you were. Go to work, or something.’

  ‘Only if you promise to be naked in my bed when you get back home.’ I sense him sit up and swing his legs out of the bed. Naturally, I push the sheet off my head to spy.

  ‘Stop looking at my arse,’ he calls over his shoulder.

  ‘Why? It’s the best part of you,’ I call back.

  ‘Funny,’ he says, sticking his head around the door to the bathroom. ‘Last night, you said my best part was my irritating cock.’

  ‘No, I said you were an irritating cock!’

  The bathroom door closes as his pillow hits it, and my phone bings with a text. It’s followed by two more in rapid succession.

  Sadie, this is Ella. I wondered if you’d be free for a catch-up tonight? I’m child free this evening after suffering a bout of Stockholm syndrome.

  That’s at the mercy of my children, not Mac.

  P.S. Will gave me your number the other day.

  ‘Do you fancy dinner this evening? Or can I interest you in a cuddle session and a takeaway?’ Will emerges from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. He’s wrapped a small white towel around his waist.

  I don’t answer but take a moment to just look at him—to just appreciate the beauty of him. Those broad shoulders and strong arms. The firmness of his chest, and the ladder of his abs. The sharp V of his hipbones and the smattering of fine hair that leads to other fine things.

  ‘Do you like what you see?’

  His cheesy tone brings a burst of laughter from my chest.

  ‘You caught me. I was totally checking you out.’ Who wouldn’t?

  ‘It’s only fair, I suppose.’

  ‘You look like you’re about to make a confession.’ I’d said it as a joke, but by the gleam in his eye, he’s enjoying being called out.

  ‘You were naked when I got back into bed after Sir Lancelot was delivered. And asleep. Dead to the world.’ His gaze takes on that far-off look as he returns to the moment in his head. ‘You were on your front with your hands cradled under your chest. The sheet draped low across your back. I might’ve watched you for a while, remembering you in that dress. Watching you walk away from me. Seeing the sway of your hips and the swell of your arse.’

  ‘You were thinking about me.’ My words are so soft, I’m not sure I’d meant them to be heard.

  He looks up, drawn from the memory like a hypnotist’s snap of the fingers. ‘Of course. I’m always thinking about you. About getting my paws on you. About being inside you.’ He shrugs at the admission. ‘There you were, dead asleep, and me with a stiff cock in my hand. So I woke you up for my own nefarious means by rolling you over and loving you with my mouth again.’

  I don’t know what to say about any of that. Six weeks, my mind intones. A little under six weeks to let him love me—with his body, at least. Six weeks in which to also get my fill, while still remaining whole. Unscathed. My heart untouched.

  Will I manage it?

  ‘So a night curled on the couch. How does that sound?’

  ‘Because you give a mean foot massage?’ I respond, throwing back what he’d said the first night he played prostitute.

  ‘I do, but in the interest of transparency, it’s only to encourage you to take your knickers off.’

  ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less,’ I reply, straight-faced. ‘Rain check?’ I suggest. Up until this moment, I hadn’t considered replying to Ella with a yes, but listening to Will and his plans to love me, no matter how temporary, has my heart growing three sizes, just like the Grinch. I take it as a warning of sorts.

  ‘Ella just asked me if I’d like to meet her for a drink.’

  ‘Ella-Ella? As in Mac’s Ella, from rugby?’ At least, that’s what it sounds like he asks, given he’s brushing his teeth.

  ‘How many Ellas do you think I know in London? Yes, Ella-Ella.’

  Will holds up a finger, so I pause while he goes back into the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

  ‘She’s a lovely girl.’ He looks genuinely pleased. And gorgeous, in case I forgot to mention—all tan and fair and cut, standing there in just a towel. ‘You’ll have a very pleasant evening, I shouldn’t wonder. Two stunners, out on the town. Sipping cocktails, men drooling at your feet.’

  ‘Men we’ll use as footstools.’

  ‘If that’s the kind of thing you’re into, I know just the kind of place we can hang out.’

  ‘I just bet you do.’

  ‘What?

  Pushing back the sheet, I wonder if my legs will hold me up for the rest of the day as I slide my feet to the floor. The way Will had my body twisted last night has left me sore in places I didn’t know I had muscles. My body aches from his attention, and while some aches come with a level of satisfaction, some just come with an ouch.

  ‘I need to work out more often,’ I grumble, contemplating standing as a memory assails me: Will holding my ankles in the air as he drove into me with such power and force, he had to stop to pull me to the edge of the mattress. And the way he held my wrists against the bed as he entered me so slowly, refusing to move or give me what I needed until I was hoarse from moaning my pleas.

  He was rough and tender and all the bits between, and had the kind of stamina I thought could only occur in fantasies. My body tingles quite suddenly, overcome with the sensory memory of the last time he slid into me last night. I thought it would hurt, but he pushed in so tenderly, I came with a jerk—a full-on body spasm timed with my orgasm, an orgasm that seemed never-ending as he’d worked his way down my body, drawing it out with his mouth.

  I look up to find Will staring at down at me. There’s no humour in his face, but plenty of heat. I begin pulling the sheet from behind me, feeling exposed

  ‘Don’t do that,’ he says, stilling me with one look. ‘You’re stunning, Sadie.’ I duck my head, hiding my growing smile, though his sincere moment doesn’t last very long. ‘It was an honour to deflower you last night. You know, after the whole revirginized thing. And I hope we have many more nights like that.’

  ‘Between now and the end of August, at least.’ As I look up again, he’s palming himself though the white downy towel. ‘Oh, no.’ The words bubble up from my throat with laughter. ‘That’s not happening.’

  ‘But plum,’ he says with a pout. ‘What am I going to do with this in the meantime?’ His eyes flick comically down.

  ‘I have one or two suggestions,’ I answer, unable to restrain my smile. ‘Something tells me you won’t like either of them very much.’

  Chapter Twenty

  SADIE

  That night, I get to the bar ten minutes before I’m supposed to meet Ella. It’s strange, but I feel a little nervous. Not that we didn’t get along at the rugby match, but I still feel nervous. I suppose maybe I think I’ll get there ahead of time and numb the anxiety with a swift glass of wine. But when I get there, it seems Ella had the same idea.

  ‘Sadie!’ She stands to greet me, which is probably counterproductive, seeing as she was taller on the high chair.

  We kiss the European way, double air kisses, only Ella’s are less air and more attached to my cheek.

  ‘I’m so pleased you said yes,’ she says, looking genuinely delighted ‘When Mac’s parents said they were coming down from Scotland yesterday, all I could think was, yes!’ She pumps her fist, causing the two gold bangles she wears to jangle. ‘And how nice it would be to see you again. Sorry,’ she adds, smoothing down her dress. ‘I might be a little excited.’

  Ella is a babe of the first order and is channelling a little Joan Holloway/Mad Men style tonight. Her dre
ss clings in all the right places, and even though it’s a little on the demure side—more a midweek night outfit than full out glam—it doesn’t hide her assets.

  I’d decided on black skinny jeans, heels, and a chiffon blouse. A safe outfit, but one that’ll work almost anywhere casual.

  ‘Also, sorry, but I started without you.’ She pulls an apologetic face as she slides her fingers over the bowl of her cocktail glass. ‘In my defence, I don’t get out very often,’ she says, toying with the stem.

  ‘Tough with small children, I imagine.’

  ‘Tough with Mac, more like. At least, recently. He’s been travelling a lot. In fact, he’s in Germany, as we speak, at some trade show. So I was super excited to find his parents were coming to stay. They’ve also said they’d stick around so Mac and I can get away for a naughty weekend.’

  ‘I’ll raise a glass to that,’ I reply. ‘Just as soon as I catch the attention of one of the wait staff.’

  We order another round; Pinot for me and a margarita for her, as well as a couple of tapas plates.

  ‘May the wings of your eyeliner always be even.’ Raising her glass, Ella proposes a toast.

  I raise my glass. ‘Amen to that!’

  ‘How are you enjoying London?’ she asks, sliding her glass back onto the table between us.

  ‘Oh, I love it. It’s so different from back home.’

  ‘Which is where?’ She seems genuinely interested, rather than asking for the sake of conversation.

  ‘Maryland. Ocean City. At least, that’s where I live now.’

  ‘And Will says you’re a teacher?’

  I nod and try to ignore the little fluttering tickle at that insight, then silently chastise myself. Because, hello vacation not-romance. Vacation fling?

  ‘I was at university studying for an early years teaching degree. I still haven’t finished it.’ She frowns. ‘Second time around student, too. Here’s hoping third time’s the charm, whenever that may be.’ She lifts her glass before taking a dainty sip.

  ‘You’re going to finish it sometime and go into teaching?’

  ‘That’s the plan,’ she answers, looking thoroughly unconvinced. ‘Maybe once Juno is old enough to go to day care or maybe school.’ She takes another short sip as though to wash away the inevitability.

  I get it. I’m quite privileged in my position, I think. As a teacher, I get those minds for less than a year, but during that year, such changes take place. The children learn to read a little. To write. To learn about rules and structure. They experience new and frightening things, and overcome such obstacles. And on top of that, by the time summer swings around, I’ve seen such changes in them—they’re no longer little baby faces hopping into class to play. They’re children. Little people changing every day. And I imagine this is just a fraction of what a parent sees and feels. No wonder many of them want time to stand still.

  ‘I sort of fell into teaching,’ I say, filling the sudden void in our conversation. ‘Not that I don’t love it.’

  ‘I thought I might love it. But then I fell into Mac.’ She giggles a little smuttily. ‘Or he fell into me. Anyway,’ she says with a happy sigh. ‘Everything got sort of redirected after that.’ She makes a swirling motion about her stomach. An unexpected pregnancy?

  ‘You have such a beautiful family.’ Absolute true story. ‘And your kids are just the sweetest.’

  ‘Thank you! I am fond of the little rats. Though Louis isn’t my biological child, I love him fiercely. He’s just the most special boy. Oh,’ she says, taking in my expression. ‘I thought Will might’ve told you?’

  ‘Will and I haven’t really . . . ’ Done anything but bicker and fuck, though we excel at both. ‘We really don’t know each other very well at all.’

  ‘Huh.’ She purses her lips, twisting her mouth off to one side. ‘He’s never introduced us to anyone before. Well, not me, anyway. I thought for sure—’

  She cancels whatever she was about to say, but it hangs in the air, anyway.

  ‘Nope, like I said, we’re just friends. I’m only here for a few weeks.’

  ‘But you’re enjoying being . . . under him?’ She toys with the pendant dangling from her long gold necklace, a saucy glint in her eye. ‘Living on the floor below, I mean.’

  ‘I know exactly what you mean.’ Lady, I have your number. But it’s hard not to smile in return.

  ‘I imagine when Will goes downstairs, he’s very thorough.’ How can she keep such a straight face through her terrible jokes?

  ‘As thorough as you are bad,’ I chastise lightly because it’s hard to be serious when you’re laughing.

  ‘It’s a terrible side effect of not getting out often enough. The lack of adult companionship has unfortunately turned me into a teenage boy. I’m sort of obsessed with sex. Hang on a minute,’ she says with barely a cringe. ‘That sounds worse than it actually is. I suppose I just want everyone to be as satisfied as I am.’

  ‘That’s’—a little strange— ‘good to know.’

  ‘Also,’ she adds, taking barely a breath, ‘I blame breastfeeding.’ She eyes her glass again. ‘Abstinence has made me a terrible lightweight and an awful flirt, apparently. Not that I was a heavy drinker before, but now? A couple of drinks and I’m a bit of a handful. I make extremely injudicious decisions, which Mac uses to his full advantage, of course. I’m being very indiscreet, aren’t I? I hope I haven’t frightened you off.’

  ‘You’re fine. Blab away. I won’t tell.’

  ‘Blab indeed. I’m sure you don’t need to live vicariously.’ Her eyes flare comically.

  ‘On account of hanging out with a male escort?’

  Ella’s shoulders start to shake. ‘Don’t look now,’ she says, leaning across the table. ‘But the lady behind you just did a double take. Isn’t it fun having an interesting life?’

  Or an interesting vacation, in my case.

  ‘And that was very bad of him. He’s lucky you forgave him at all. Typical Will,’ she adds. ‘Typical man, really. They’re basically a bunch of opportunists.’

  ‘Did he tell you what happened?’

  She nods. ‘About him turning up and pretending your friend had booked him as an escort? The ridiculous man.’

  I’m not sure by her comment if Will had told her the exact order of events, or if he’d twisted it to sound like it was all his doing—that Kallie hadn’t booked me an escort, even if he was only supposed to be an arm I’d walk into a party on. I also wonder, for the first time, what would’ve happened if the stranger—stranger than Will, that is—had shown up. Would he have been less professional, or more?

  ‘It is a little draughty in here?’ A cold finger draws down my spine at the prospects of what might’ve been, but Ella very kindly joins me, easing my sudden concern.

  ‘He certainly looked the part.’ Standing on the doorstep, radiating both an innate confidence and extreme sexuality. ‘Like the expensively suited star of a Brit flick. Lock, stock, and his smoking barrel?’ She starts to titter at her own play on the movie title, almost slipping from her stool as her foot slides from the rung.

  ‘I was thinking of something a little more along the James Bond line,’ I reply, making to grab her arm. Thankfully, she rights herself, though she’s still giggling.

  ‘Like a modern-day Mr Darcy?’

  ‘Will’s more like Bingley.’ There’s not a lot of brooding going on with him.

  ‘On the surface, maybe. Will is very agreeable and easy-going, but he’s no beta. No, he’s definitely more a Fitzwilliam. He’s misunderstood.’

  ‘Team Darcy and Team Will?’

  ‘There’s more to both of them than meets the eye,’ she answers, trying to catch the attention of the waitress.

  That’s maybe true for Will in the bedroom, I decide. He might not brood, but I’ll bet he’s all kinds of kinky.

  ‘And while there are, no doubt, lots of women who currently pay for him to whip out his speculum, I imagine there would be many, many more who would p
ay dearly for him to whip out his—’ With a swirling, pointing finger, she indicates my general crotch area.

  ‘Whip out his dick?’

  Ella begins cackling. ‘I knew we’d get along!’

  ‘He could sure make a good living on the side, so to speak.’ On his side. On his back. Hell, up against a wall. If he was to sign up with an escort agency, his client list would be long. And thick.

  ‘That might be an idea.’ My gaze connects with hers a little sharply. ‘Will’s family is what you’d call old money. And old money doesn’t always last. God, there I go again blabbing.’

  ‘He’s not in trouble, is he?’ My Pinot turns bitter in my stomach. ‘Financially, I mean?’ My mind springs immediately to his penthouse apartment, his flashy suits and fancy car.

  ‘No, no!’ She waves away my concerns. ‘But when his father eventually passes, the death duties he’ll face will be crippling. And then there’s the house—his family seat. I’ve no idea how he’ll be able to maintain it.’

  ‘Family seat?’

  ‘It’s sort of the home of the landed gentry—the aristocracy.’

  ‘But what does that have to do with Will?’

  ‘He’s the only son of a Lord. A Viscount or Baron, I think.’ One of those titles, anyway.

  ‘Get out! That is . . . trippy.’ And very odd.

  ‘Very,’ Ella says from over the rim of her glass. ‘You wouldn’t guess it, would you? I mean, he’s not an awful rigid toff.’

  No, definitely not. Will is quite the opposite.

  From there, the evening passes pleasantly, though Ella’s words seem to linger at the back of my mind like a disappointed cloud. It’s ridiculous that I feel this way, but that’s the thing about feelings. They’re there whether you appreciate them or not. The son of a Lord and the daughter of a librarian and a maintenance man? We not only live oceans apart, but we’re also from worlds apart. Galaxies, even. But it’s a good reminder, I decide, as I close the front door to Mo’s multimillion-pound home, greeted by the massive butt sniffer. I’ll bet even he’s a ridiculously expensive breed of mutt.