Georgia (43 page)

His eyes closed as his lips came down to meet hers, one hand moving up to caress her cheek. This time there was no fear, just a sense of something stronger than both of them and that this was the moment they’d been waiting for.

She felt his tongue first, flickering round her lips, sending out messages to each nerve-ending. Sensual, light touches that set her body on fire.

The music seemed to be engulfing her, as if written specially for them and slowly his mouth covered hers.

Never before had a mere kiss been so intimate. It was everything, blocking out the other guests. It wasn’t just a kiss but making love. She could feel her nipples growing hard, dampness seeping from her and at the same time she could feel his hardness pressing into her belly.

Inside she was trembling, her arms were reaching out to draw him closer, her tongue thrusting against his. Her fingers caressing his ears, neck and cheek, wanting him, now.

She had no idea how long they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. It was no longer teasing or tempting, but a need to possess so strong there was no question of backing away.

‘I’ve wanted you for so long baby,’ he whispered against her neck, licking and stroking until her legs almost buckled under her. ‘I want to kiss every inch of that beautiful body, I want it to sing for me.’

Georgia didn’t remember Max suggesting they left, or even walking out the door. It was as if they floated out, one moment in a music-filled room, the next in the front garden, the smell of roses and damp earth mingling with the smell of their bodies.

It was hard to break away even to get in the car. Before Max turned on the ignition he had to pause to kiss her again.

Golden light from a street lamp bathed them as his big hands cupped her breasts. She found her hands reaching for buttons on his shirt, wanting to touch flesh so badly it hurt.

She didn’t ask where he was taking her, it didn’t matter. Her pulse was racing, her limbs ached for him, if he had pulled into the side of the road that would have been enough.

He drove only a few streets away and stopped, turning to her and taking her in his arms again, his mouth devouring hers.

When he released her and opened his car door, only then did she notice they were outside a block of Victorian flats with railings and marble steps up to plate glass doors.

Like a child she took his hand trustingly. She leaned closer to him as he unlocked the door and his arm encircled her and drew her inside.

Up a wide staircase with olive green carpet and delicate silk wall coverings. On past polished wood doors with brass numbers, the sort of place she imagined snooty ladies and gentlemen living.

On the second floor Max pulled out another key, he drew her closer and opened the door.

A glimpse of honey coloured carpet stretching up a long narrow hall, gilt wall lights and hessian-covered walls.

He kissed her again, kicking the door shut behind them, then scooping her up into his arms, he carried her into the dark bedroom.

‘Watch this,’ he whispered. She couldn’t see much, just his hand reaching out for something in front of them. She heard him flick a switch and the room was filled with soft light.

It was a huge room dominated by a giant bed with a suede headboard. As he touched another switch, so gold velvet curtains slowly closed over the big window and sweet music filled the air.

‘What do you think of that?’ he looked down at her in his arms. His expression was almost boyish, showing off his latest toy, but rather than spoiling the moment she loved him for it.

‘Amazing,’ she smiled, unable to look at anything other than him. His big, rugged face looked softer now, his lips so red, eyes full of fire. ‘But just kiss me again?’

He lowered her to the floor as he kissed her, his fingers already unzipping her dress, slowly peeling it from her shoulders, letting it drop to her waist.

‘Even more beautiful than I imagined,’ he whispered, touching her breasts reverently. ‘I’ve always loved you Georgia.’

The satin bedspread caressed her back. He kissed her feet as he took off her shoes, slowly licked her thighs as he moved slowly upwards to peel off her panties.

Only when Max stood up to tear off his own clothes did she realize something wasn’t quite right. Her eyes didn’t focus as they should, her breathing felt odd. The music seemed to be right inside her head and her heart was pounding with more than just desire. She was no stranger to drink, it was something else entirely. But she was helpless, a fire seemed to be raging within her, she wanted him so badly it burned.

Naked, Max seemed even bigger. Wide muscular shoulders, tanned dark brown with a matt of black hair on his chest. His stomach was flat and taut with muscle and as he pulled off silk shorts, his penis rose up alarmingly large.

‘You’re so perfect,’ he said moving beside her and bending to kiss her small pink-tipped breasts, his tongue flickering over her nipples. ‘I’m going to love you tonight like you’ve never been before.’

Love-making with Ian had been sweet and tender, his hands gentle but unsurprising. With Max it was like being on a whirlwind of pleasure, one moment rough and demanding, the next so sensitive she wanted to cry. One moment his arms were crushing her, the next he moved away using only his tongue to tease her into rapture.

Again and again he brought her almost to the point of orgasm, then he’d pause, almost laughing at the way she tossed her head on the pillows and clawed at him for more. One moment he was on top of her, his hands holding her buttocks, driving himself into her, then suddenly he would roll over, taking her with him, lifting her gently, his lips back on her breasts.

It was naughty and delicious, rough and passionate, beautiful and gentle all at once. Georgia saw his red pointed tongue slithering down her body and she felt as if a pit of fire was about to consume her.

‘Make me come,’ she heard herself cry out, catching his head between her hands and pushing him down onto her.

Bliss so exquisite she could only claw at the bedspread, writhing under his tongue. ‘Harder, harder,’ she shouted. ‘It’s wonderful!’

She was out of control now, carried away to a plane where only sensation mattered, all sense of reality gone. A million fireworks were going off inside her, she could hear brass bands.

Her hands reached down to Max to draw him into her arms, but instead he knelt up beside her as she lay trembling.

She opened her eyes to find the room was spinning. Max was grinning down at her, tiny curls had crept round his face, lascivious red mouth and hairy chest made her think of a satyr.

‘Don’t,’ she said involuntarily. She couldn’t say what it was that disturbed her, but she wanted a more tender look, more words of love.

‘Don’t what?’ He reached over to a drawer beside the bed, pulling out a packet of Durex. The ease he bit off the packet with his teeth and the speed with which he slid the rubber on his erect penis was further proof of how often he seduced girls.

‘I’m going to fuck you senseless now,’ he whispered hoarsely as he scooped her up and turned her on to her stomach. Before she could protest he was pushing his way into her from behind, gripping her like a dog with a bitch.

‘Please don’t, not like that,’ she called out. Memories she’d thought she’d buried for ever were rushing back. But Max was oblivious.

She tried to wriggle away but he grabbed her round the middle so tight she felt nauseous, his breath rasping on her back.

She was no longer on a satin-covered bed with a man who’d taken her on a brief trip to heaven.

It was her father. Forcing his way into her, humiliating, degrading and hurting her. She could smell the smoky room, the drink on his breath. Feel the carpet beneath her, the prickle of her net petticoats against her thighs, even hear the filthy things he was saying.

‘No,’ she whimpered. ‘Please don’t.’

She heard his breathing getting louder, grunts of animal joy, and finally he shuddered to a halt, slithering onto the bed beside her like a deflated balloon.

For a moment Georgia just lay on her stomach, face buried in the pillow. She wanted to cry, but no tears came.

‘Come here for a cuddle.’ His voice wounded her further, she could hear the tenderness in it. He didn’t even know he’d hurt her.

The room looked hideously vulgar now, all gold and ivory. This was his lair. Satin, mirrors, even the electronic devices to operate the curtains and music. Every last thing designed to impress and seduce silly drunken girls. She could see his silk shirt lying on the floor, the double ‘M’ monogram in gold thread glinting in the light.

‘What’s up?’ he asked, turning heavily towards her, one hand on her arm.

What could she say? Was it possible to explain to any man that one moment she’d been almost fainting with desire, the next he made her remember a rapist?

‘Georgia,’ his voice was soft as he realized something was very wrong. ‘Tell me what it is? What did I do?’

‘I don’t like it like that,’ she whispered. ‘Didn’t you hear me telling you to stop?’

He sat up then, moving round to look at her. The face looking down at her was stricken with remorse.

‘I didn’t hear you. I’m so sorry.’

The anger at him faded, replaced by a sick feeling about herself. He wasn’t to blame, she was. What on earth had possessed her to even kiss him, let alone come here with him?

‘It’s all right,’ she whispered back. ‘Get into bed, I’m just going to the bathroom.’

He moved then pulling back the gold satin covers to reveal black satin sheets.

‘It’s just down the passage,’ he said softly, crawling into bed. ‘Come back quickly and we’ll talk.’

She could see the sleepiness in his eyes. His face looked lined now, revealing his age. She pulled the covers up round him and dropped a chaste kiss on his forehead. As she reached the door she looked back.

His eyes were closed already, his hand snaking up to turn down the lights and music. Bending down she picked up her clothes and boots and backed out of the door.

The bathroom gleamed with opulent bad taste. Mirrored walls, soft lighting. A bath big enough for four people sunk into the floor. The basin set into white marble with gold taps, a purple carpet with matching sets of towels hanging on thick gold rails. Erotic pen sketches were framed in gilt, a naked male statue in one corner.

When she opened a drawer under the washbasin there was even more evidence of who Max entertained in this place. A variety of cosmetics, even a vaginal douche.

For a moment she wanted to be sick. She was one of his groupies now. For two years she’d laughed at these vacuous, wide-eyed dolly birds. Not one memorable, designed like paper tissues to be used and thrown out. Yet mindless as they were, surely none of them had been foolish enough to think it was love that motivated Max?

Ten minutes later, Georgia stole back up the corridor towards the front door fully-dressed, her shoes in her hand.

Glancing to her left, she could see Max lying on his back, mouth open, snoring softly. She opened the door and let herself out silently.

As the cool night touched her flaming face she knew with certainty she had been drugged. Her legs were unsteady, her heart beating too fast, throat dry. Some of that could be explained by the champagne, but not the strange way things looked, the brightness of colours, or her losing her inhibitions so suddenly.

She could blame Max for that perhaps. He was a practised seducer who would use anything at his disposal. But the rest of it was all her fault, and somehow she would have to live with that, and the repercussions later.

Chapter 16

Georgia heard the doorbell ring but ignored it. It was nearly four in the afternoon, and she was certain it was Max.

‘I can’t face him,’ she whispered to herself.

The door bell rang again.

Her window was open, a soft warm breeze wafting in, the street below was silent, the way it always was on Sundays.

‘Georgia!’ She heard a voice. ‘Come on, open up.’

Not Max but Rod. She didn’t want to talk to him either, but he spotted her peering over the window-sill.

Slowly she went downstairs. It had been nearly five in the morning when she got home. The drug she’d been given let her walk all the way home without noticing the distance, but it hadn’t numbed the shame of what had happened, or allowed her to sleep. How was she going to face Max again?

‘Being a recluse, eh?’ Rod grinned at her. He looked like an Apache warrior as the afternoon sun caught his high cheek bones and made his blue-black hair gleam. Even his faded denim shirt and jeans fitted the image. ‘So how was the party?’

Rod’s dark eyes skimmed round Georgia’s room. It was unnaturally clean and tidy, as if she’d been cleaning all day, the smell of polish and disinfectant worse than a hospital. Her eyelids had a faint mauve tinge, the way she always looked when she’d been up all night worrying. Even her hairstyle, two childish fat plaits either side of her face was a sure sign she was insecure.

‘Someone’s upset you,’ he said with sharp perception, noting the blue-checked shirt she wore over her jeans was Ian’s. ‘Come on, tell me everything.’

‘The party was wonderful,’ she said in a small voice, going over to the window and staring out rather than face his probing eyes. ‘I’m just kind of hungover.’

She couldn’t tell a man who shared Max’s attitude to women how things were.

‘You’re hurting,’ he said softly, coming up behind her, sliding his arms round her waist and putting his chin on her shoulder. ‘Is it missing Ian, or something more?’

His brotherly hug brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to tell him the truth, but she couldn’t.

‘I’m fine, really,’ she sniffed. ‘I just did something last night I regret. Don’t try and get me to tell you. I couldn’t explain.’

It was odd how Ian’s death had changed Rod. Two years ago she wouldn’t have dared to be alone with him. But the tragedy had revealed more than his courage. Underneath the arrogance and sardonic wit, he had a deep insight into human behaviour.

For a moment he said nothing, just increased the pressure of his hug.

‘Don’t waste time with regrets,’ he said softly. ‘I can imagine what happened, you met a man who sweet-talked you, now you feel like a tart.’