In Too Deep (16 page)

At last I’m at rest, transfixed by that hot, sweet prong of flesh. I need to take a moment to absorb the fact.

I bend over him, breathing deeply and enjoying the sensation of being full of him. The feeling is intense, almost solemn, unexpectedly emotional. My eyes fill with strange, irrational tears. Just a fling? Oh dear, I’m in trouble.

My unfastened bra slides against my breasts as I move. Settling down further, and letting out a little gasp, I wrench off my blouse, tugging furiously at the still-fastened cuffs until the buttons fly. Once that’s off, I fling it clear, then follow it with my bra. Now I’m naked to the waist, and filled to the brim with the gorgeous cock of the man I’ve got a
horrible
feeling that I’ve fallen in love with. I
am
in trouble.

I’m glad that Daniel’s eyes are still closed, and that if he opens them the emergency lighting in this basement is forgivingly dim. The tears are still in my eyes and I’m certain that hopeless love is in my face.

His hands settle on the rounded curves of hips and bottom and the tenderness of his hold is more heartbreaking than ever. I hope to God that this is just infatuation, or it’s going to be the hell of all hells when our fling-type thing is over.

I look at his face, his beautiful, famous, devious face, and my sexual sorrow transmutes shockingly into anger. Oh yes, this frolic doesn’t mean nearly as much to him as it does to me. He must have scores of groupies. And while we’re on the subject of the Professor’s women, just who was that elegant, sophisticated vision he was chatting up in the lobby?

‘Who was that woman?’

I can’t believe I just spoke. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m drowning in the most sumptuous sensations, yet still my stupid jealous brain is screwing things up.

Daniel’s eyes open, and for a moment they’re unfocused and hazy. He blinks as if he’s not quite sure who he’s seeing – but I see red. Maybe he’s even fantasising about her? ‘You know, the one with the suit who you were snogging in the lobby.’

He frowns, still scrunching up his eyes, then seems to focus. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he grips me hard round the waist, bucks up his hips and jams me down yet more firmly on his erection.

I let out a groan and feel as if steam is coming out of my ears. My body is stretched around him, the tension tugging hard on my clit. I forget that any other woman on earth even exists. There’s only me sitting on Daniel, full of his cock. He
thrusts
up again and pulls me down, and it’s not just the decrepit settee that creaks and groans.

‘That woman …’ His voice is low and thrilling, his grip still hard. ‘That woman is my cousin Annie, and she’s the co-owner of the Waverley Hotel. Which is why I’m staying there.’ Consolidating his grip with one hand, he swivels his wrist and slips his other between our bodies, finding my clit and flicking it. My pussy ripples around him and I see stars, my own eyes closing. He flicks me again and I start to come, still confused, still angry.

‘Satisfied?’ he growls and, taking my clitoris neatly between finger and thumb, he squeezes. When he gives my bottom a little slap, I
am
satisfied … and I come. A scream bubbles in my throat, but at the last second I jam my fist in my mouth. Waves and waves of pleasure radiate from my clit where he grips it, holding on delicately even though I’m jerking and writhing all over the place.

He slaps me again and my orgasm surges. I half black out. I slump forwards and for a few minutes I just crouch over him, draped against his body, my chest heaving, my entire sex fizzing with aftershocks. His arms fold around me, cradling me, exquisitely gentle and tender where before he was domineering. It’s as if I’ve been shot into space and now I’m floating down gently on my parachute.

Sex was never like this before. Maybe I’ve never even had sex before, just some pale and ineffectual simulation of it?

Eventually, I haul in a deep breath. I’ve touched down again. And the most pressing matter I have to deal with right now is the fierce erection that’s still hot and hard inside me.

How on earth can this be? Does the man have superhuman powers? My ex or indeed any of my previous boyfriends would have finished long since. No way could they have withstood such an exciting ride, because surely it must have been as
hectic
for him as it was for me. And yet here he is, like a rock inside me, but a warm, blood-filled rock that pulsates with the force of his life.

I straighten a little, and look down at him. The devil! His smile is a picture. There
is
the tenderness, I wasn’t mistaken – but shining through that is an infuriating male smugness. A ‘look at me … look at my powers of endurance … you’ll never beat me’ expression which makes me want to do just that: beat him. I want to overwhelm him into shooting inside me, my helpless slave.

I shove back on his chest, bracing myself, adjusting my position. Then I lift and crash down again, taking him deeper. My pussy flickers dangerously again, another orgasm only a touch away, but I have the satisfaction of seeing Daniel’s eyes open wide. And when I do it again he lets out a curse that’s more appropriate for a merchant seaman than a highly educated and sophisticated academic.

‘Shush!’ I command him, leaning a little forwards again and covering his mouth with my hand.

Then I ride him, I really ride him, lifting up and pounding down on him again and again. Within seconds I’m coming, in a sudden, violent encore, but I work on through it, my body moving on auto while my mind sails among the stars.

And still he resists me, the bastard.

Enough already. I hunker down, squat really hard on him and clench my glowing sex around his cock. It makes me see those stars again, but I grit my teeth and grip him and work him as I’ve never gripped and worked a man before.

His hands grip my hips, digging into the too, too abundant flesh there, and I feel the tips of his nails threatening my skin. The fuck, he’s still holding out on me! His beautiful face is a mask of strain and stubbornness, the line of his jaw hard as iron, his teeth clenched.

Bugger this!

Still tight on him, I rise up and crash down again. Two things happen simultaneously. No, three things. No, actually, four …

Daniel snarls another seafaring oath. He comes, his hips pistoning crazily. I come again, the pleasure wrung from me almost as if it were pain.

And the ancient settee finally succumbs to the punishment we’ve inflicted on it and collapses under us with an almighty crash.

9 We Can End This

THERE’S A MOMENT
of stunned, total silence, then I snap my eyes open and look right into Daniel’s. They’re brighter and happier than I’ve ever seen them, full of mirth and clear, despite the absence of his spectacles. We both start to shake, and laughter seems to gather momentum like that giant rolling ball that chases Indiana Jones. Just as I’m about to explode into howls of glee, another sound freezes us both to silence.

‘Who’s there? What’s going on?’

It’s Mr Johnson, the Borough Librarian, and, even though he must still be at the far end of the basement, it sounds horribly as if he’s heading our way.

In a blur of movement, we disentangle, snatching up our gear like Special Forces reacting to an ambush. Acting purely on instinct, I grab Daniel’s hand and drag him around the corner of the stacks and into a little hidey-hole I know of from tedious hours spent shelving down here. It’s the one I’ve sometimes snuck away to for a few minutes’ crafty porn reading.

Stolid footsteps approach.

‘Is anyone there?’ repeats the confused librarian, obviously confronting the thoroughly knackered sofa.

It’s dark in our little niche. There’s a wall light nearby but it’s not on, and Daniel and I are huddled together next to a packing crate and a heap of old newspapers. As Mr Johnson tut-tuts in exasperation, our temporarily suppressed hysteria starts to bubble again, and both Daniel and I have to clap our hands over our faces and battle heroically against letting it
out
. I can’t begin to imagine what will happen if my boss finds us, me half-naked and Daniel still with his deflated penis poking out of the front of his jeans. We can’t sort ourselves out because even the slightest noise would lead to discovery.

After what seems like a protracted inch-by-inch examination of the settee, but in reality is probably just a cursory glance, Mr Johnson makes another little harrumph of befuddlement and then walks away, moving quickly between the stacks.

When we hear the door at the other end of the basement open and close, both Daniel and I first let out our breaths then collapse into uncontained merriment. This takes up several minutes, as we stagger out of hiding to tidy ourselves up and deal with the incriminating evidence of used condoms and missing blouse buttons. Eventually we’re both more or less decent and back at Daniel’s work table, but neither of us can stop smirking and breaking out into giggles now and again.

‘That was mad. Just mad.’ I roll up my sleeves to hide the lack of buttons on my cuff. Looks quite stylish and even more Fifties … Maybe I’ll set a trend among the staff? ‘I’ve always imagined that there might’ve been naughty goings-on down here over the years, but I never thought I’d be one of them.’

‘That was awesome, Gwendolynne.’ Daniel gives me a smile from behind his newly restored glasses, but there’s a hint of seriousness about him too. Have we gone too far? Got too intense? Burst out of the barriers of our fling arrangement? ‘
You
were awesome … I feel as if you’ve just mopped the floor with me. But in a good way.’

I’m about to concur when out of the blue I start shivering in reaction. In shock. And it’s not because I’ve just done something that could easily have cost me my job. No, it’s what I feel. What I’ve so stupidly gone and let happen to me. Even though it’s ridiculous, I’m now almost certain that I’ve fallen in love
with
Daniel Brewster and I want far more than just a bloody fling-type thing with him.

‘What’s wrong?’

I look up, and realise I’ve been in a fugue for a moment. Daniel’s staring at me, his fine broad brow creased in a frown. He has a beautiful kiss curl that I want to reach out and touch and twirl around my finger, and the thought of doing that, in tender familiarity, calms me even though it shouldn’t. I almost do it, but before I can he reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it gently, and I don’t need to. The warmth of his fingertips is just as soothing and reassuring.

‘I was just thinking that we had a pretty close call there. It really
was
mad to have sex in a place where anybody on the staff could have discovered us at any moment.’

Daniel’s mouth twists in a way that’s not quite a smile. He looks perplexed, yet at the same time he’s obviously still trying to be supportive.

‘I’m sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have been so reckless. I put your job at risk. It was wrong of me.’ He pauses, and his face become utterly serious. ‘You know, we can stop this, if you want to. Just say the word. I love this thing we have. It’s … well, it’s very special. But I would never want to make life difficult for you, believe me. Not in any way.’

We can stop this
…

For a second I teeter on the edge of tears again. He’s sincere. I believe him utterly. He
does
care for me, even if only within the bounds of our present obsession. But it suddenly dawns on me: just what is it he’s suggesting we should stop?

Gwendolynne and Daniel? Or Gwendolynne and Nemesis? Or have they always been one and the same thing?

‘I don’t want to stop.’

My words hang in the air. I can almost see them floating there, sounding far too vehement and desperate. Daniel eyes
me
from behind his glasses and, to my dismay, he looks distinctly wary. He’s clever and intuitive. I bet he can read me like one of the old tomes in the archive, probably far more easily, and I could kick myself. He doesn’t want more than a temporary relationship, and it must be written on my face that I want considerably more than that.

His broad intelligent brow crimps in a frown. He’s framing his get-out clause, I just know it.

‘Me neither.’

For a moment I think that I’m imagining things, just hearing what I want to hear, then the urge to leap up on the table and dance nearly gets me up there, before I stop myself. He
does
want to go on! There’s still a chance! But before my grin gets too goofy and I do something that’s even more deranged and besotted than I’ve already done, I get a grip on myself. Don’t look too enthusiastic, woman, remember this is temporary. Just control yourself and enjoy what you’ve got while you’ve got it.

‘Well, that’s all right then.’ I feign airiness and I know he sees through me, but I don’t care about that
too
much. ‘But I think we’d better behave ourselves down here in future, don’t you?’

‘Absolutely. There are plenty of other places for a nice fuck, aren’t there?’

I’m about to ask where, then grab him by the hand and drag him off to one of them, when the grand old clock of Borough Hall chimes sonorously in the distance. With that, the outside world of not fucking and not playing mad games with Nemesis who is also Daniel claims me once more. My watch tells me that I’ve spent my entire lunch break down here and should be back on the clock. Immediately.

‘Oh fuckadoodle-do! I should be back at work!’

I spring to my feet, and Daniel leaps up beside me.

‘But what about lunch? You have to eat … I was just about to say, let’s go out to the pub or a café or a restaurant.’

The idea is lovely, and I have a flash vision of us sitting at a table somewhere, just sharing food and a glass of beer, talking and laughing. Nothing particularly sexy, just good companionship. Closeness.

‘Well, that’s a lovely offer, Professor, but I’ve just spent my lunch hour, er, having you.’ His puckish smile nearly slays me. ‘I have to go, really. I have to.’

He nibbles his lip, then darts for his laptop bag. From one of its side pockets he produces a jumbo Snickers bar.

‘Here. Lunch is on me.’ He puts it into my hand and I feel as if I’ve just been handed a diamond necklace or an enormous lottery cheque. ‘And I’ll come up and collect you when you finish at teatime and we’ll go somewhere. OK?’