MeanGirls (3 page)

Adele waited until she got home to read the letter. She knew
that somehow Alex had been involved in its creation but she couldn’t stand him
hovering around while she read it. Despite the fact she’d tell him what it said
at some point, probably even let him read it, she just wanted to be by herself
while she read it for the first time. To digest what it said, to work out how
she felt about it.

By the time she’d taken in every last word, her eyebrows had
almost disappeared into her hairline. She didn’t quite know what she’d been
expecting but it certainly hadn’t been that. After Oliver had dashed out of the
sauna, she’d really thought she’d seen the last of him. Not literally, of
course, unless he quit his job or she found a new leisure center, but she
didn’t think he would still show an interest in her. Much less want to try
again. And as for him being crap with women—she could hardly believe it. A guy
like him should have them lining up to date him.

Adele grinned. Thinking about it, he
did
kind of have
them lining up—the three witches were clearly very interested in him. Yet he’d
chosen her. Even after their crazy misunderstanding he still wanted her. Wow.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained is absolutely right
,
she decided. Then, picking up her phone, she entered and stored Oliver’s number
before tapping out a text.

Hi Oliver,

Coffee would be great. When are you free?

Adele x

She had tapped in a second kiss, but had then deleted it.
Shaking her head, she wondered when she’d gotten so hung up on how many kisses
to put in a bloody text message. He’d put one, so she’d wanted to put the same
amount to avoid seeming overly keen. It was ridiculous and she knew it. After
all, if neither of them were that keen on each other, why were they bothering?

She pressed send, then put her phone down on the table
before heading into the bathroom for a shower. That way she couldn’t sit
obsessively staring at the device, willing it to beep into life with a response
from Oliver.

God, they hadn’t even been out yet and already she was
finding the whole dating thing stressful and worrisome. But she knew she had to
go through it if she ever wanted to be in a relationship again, so she came to
the conclusion that it was worth it. Oliver was worth it.

Pulling the shower curtain around her, she shifted under the
warm spray and shivered with pleasure. Grabbed the bottle so she could shampoo
all those cooking smells from her hair. Washed, rinsed. Repeated the same
process on her body with shower gel. Only her body gave her pause. She looked
down, frowned. It was the same old view. Breasts that could only be described
as huge, with a voluminous tummy beneath. She couldn’t even see her feet unless
she leaned forward.

She sighed. Over the years she really had gotten used to the
stares, but it had been so long since she’d been with anyone other than her
right hand and trusty vibrators—she had several—that she tried to remember how
men reacted when they saw her naked body. Despite its obsession with skinny
girls, fashion had taken huge steps forward in catering for plus-sized women,
so she no longer had to wear shapeless clothes. Instead she wore well-fitting,
flattering attire, and undergarments that sucked her tummy in. The clothes
boosted her confidence no end, made her feel attractive, womanly, desirable.
But when those nice clothes came off…then what? Certainly no one had ever
reacted badly, as no amount of great outfits could hide her voluptuousness, so
she figured that perhaps everything would be okay if things between her and
Oliver came to that. She damn well hoped they would.

After a beat a thought came to her. A thought so blindingly
obvious that she had to resist the temptation to slap her forehead.

Oliver had seen her naked. Well, almost. For ages now she’d
been appearing in front of him in just a swimsuit. A swimsuit that covered her
from lower throat to upper thighs but did absolutely nothing to hide the lumps
and bumps in between. And far from being turned off by it, it seemed he still
liked her. Even more than the mean girls—and they had tiny bodies barely
covered by even tinier bikinis!

Well, she decided, if Oliver had seen her in her cossie and
still wanted her, then who was she to complain or put up a fight? Gorgeous
Oliver Shaw, toned, delicious and apparently shy around women. She could hardly
believe it, and she made up her mind that when they were a little more
comfortable around one another, she would find out exactly what had happened to
make him so unsure of himself around the opposite sex.

For now, though, she’d celebrate the fact that they were
going out for coffee. Hopefully soon.

Her mind wandered to thoughts of him in the sauna, before
he’d blurted out that he liked her then run off. It had been the first time
she’d seen him topless and the image was forever etched into her mind. Or maybe
just until she had even more explicit mental pictures to pull up. For the time
being, it was perfect.

Even in the dim light, she’d been able to see the broad,
defined shoulders, the wide chest with its smattering of dark, curly hairs,
which thinned to a line and then traveled down the middle of the perfect bumps
of his abs before disappearing into the waistband of his shorts…

Fixing the perfect image in her mind, she inserted herself
into it, made it real. Closing her eyes, she let her imagination—and her
fingers—run wild.

She kneeled down in front of him, her knees sinking into
soft carpet. Glanced up at his face, returned the smile upon it. Then shifted
her attention back toward what was quite literally in front of her. Tucking the
tips of her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, she dragged them down,
slowly, carefully, grinning as she felt them catch against his stiff cock. She
pulled the material outward to accommodate him and saliva pooled in her mouth
as his shaft sprung out, hard, ready and smelling delicious. Musky yet clean,
and oh so very masculine. She wanted to pounce on him right away, sink her
mouth onto his stiffness, feel him jerk beneath her, hear him moan. But she
didn’t. She teased him first instead. Teased him with flicks of her tongue,
barely touching his sensitive skin. His cock bobbed in front of her, twitched
as he reacted to her actions.

Then when she could hold back no longer she circled her
right hand around the very base of his shaft, the wiry curls of his pubes
brushing against her skin, and closed her lips around the head. She put her
other hand on his firm ass, digging her fingers in ever so slightly. Oliver
groaned, reached down and tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging it a little.
She hummed in response and the vibrations she made wrenched another feral sound
from her lover.

Her pussy grew wetter, juices making the insides of her
thighs damp and sticky. It seemed the more aroused Oliver got, the hornier she
became. And he hadn’t even touched her yet—well, none of her erogenous zones,
anyway. As the thought passed through her head, though, she realized she was
wrong. When it came to him, every millimeter of her was an erogenous zone, and
as he gripped her brunette locks more tightly, the tiny beads of pain that
exploded across her scalp quickly morphed into pleasure. Extreme, delicious
pleasure.

She sunk her mouth farther onto his cock, relishing the
heat, the feeling of soft skin over rock-hard flesh. A string of unintelligible
sounds issued from Oliver’s beautiful lips. Somehow she knew he was urging her
on. Sucking in a deep breath through her nostrils, she paused for a second,
then let it out. Repeating the process, she then removed her hand from the base
of his cock, placing it on his other buttock, and inched her lips forward,
slowly edging his meaty head past her gag reflex until he was fully enveloped
in her mouth and throat. The sounds he made grew more animalistic, the hold on
her hair tighter as he abandoned sense, abandoned everything that was not
directly related to his dick.

Swallowing around him, a bolt of arousal and an extreme
sense of triumph flashed through her as he yowled and jerked his hips toward
her in abbreviated, rapid movements before calling her name and seemingly
turning to stone before his cock twitched, spurted its release deep into her
throat. She shifted back slightly, gulping down everything he had to offer her.
Then when he’d calmed down some, she licked and sucked at his shaft until it
was clean. Only then did she pop him out of her mouth and sit back on her
haunches, carefully pulling her hair from his grasp.

Looking up, she was gratified to see that she’d turned
him inside out. He stood rocking gently back and forth, his eyes wide, cheeks
red and his arms limp at his sides, as though he were bereft of energy. He gave
her a goofy smile, then rallied enough to reach out and help her up, pulling her
into his arms. She went willingly, eagerly, and responded immediately when he
pressed his lips to hers, opening her mouth to admit his questing tongue. He
didn’t seem to care that she’d just swallowed his cum.

He pulled back and she let out a little mewl of
disappointment, which turned into a happy purr when he said, “You’re
beautiful.”

Their lips clashed again, and he possessed her mouth
enthusiastically and with immense skill, kissing her until she was dizzy with
lust. Her pussy was swollen, her clit throbbed. She wanted nothing more than to
have Oliver inside her, fucking her for all he was worth until they both came.

She pulled away and said just that, grinning when he
steered her quickly, excitedly, toward a sumptuous-looking bed and shoved her
gently down onto its mattress. It gave under her weight, and before she had
chance to scramble backward to lay her head on the pillows, Oliver was upon
her, capturing her lips with his, kissing her until her toes curled and the
duvet was in danger of a serious soaking.

“Please,” she whispered, grabbing his head and guiding it
down her body, “make me come.”

The first touch of his mouth to her sex was like Heaven
incarnate, his tongue making short work of the juices that coated her, only to
cause her to produce more. Slipping two fingers inside her, he licked, nibbled
and sucked at her clit and labia as his other hand stroked her breasts and
belly.

Adele felt as though she were on fire…in a good way. A
totally brilliant, blissful, orgasmic way. She was almost orgasmic too. The
man, the situation, the touch of his fingers and mouth upon her, they sent her
arousal spiraling high, higher, until a spring coiled tighter within her
abdomen, tighter still, until she was grasping at the bedcovers and moaning
Oliver’s name, over and over.

“Oh God, oh God, I’m going to…come!”

Oliver didn’t react. He was clearly smart, as he kept
doing exactly what he was doing, curving his fingers up to press on her G-spot
and stimulating her clit for all he was worth. It was her undoing.

Seconds later, Adele’s climax ripped through her like a
tornado, tossing her about, engulfing her, leaving her gasping and totally
wrung out. She felt boneless, as though she would melt and sink right into the
mattress, never to be seen again.

She snapped back to reality just as Oliver crawled between
her legs and positioned his once-again erect cock against her entrance.
Throughout her vivid and incredibly graphic daydream, her fingers had been
playing busily with her pussy, and she gripped the tiled windowsill to steady
herself as a very real, totally blissful orgasm crashed through her body.

She didn’t realize until afterward that she’d been calling
his name that time, too.

When Oliver’s alarm went off at 5:30 a.m., he woke up and
practically bounded out of bed like an excitable child on Christmas morning.
Just as he’d been dozing off the previous night, his phone had beeped with a
text. He’d been going to roll over and ignore it until it occurred to him that
just hours earlier he’d given Adele his phone number. It could be her texting
him. That thought had made him put his hand out to grab his phone, almost
knocking his lamp over in the process. Eventually he’d located the phone and
pressed the button to illuminate the screen. It was her! He’d grinned as he
read the message, then made the decision not to reply right away. His
sleepiness and eagerness might have made him say something silly.

So he’d sensibly put his phone back down and resolved to
reply first thing in the morning.

Now, though, he didn’t know where his energy was coming
from. He’d woken several times in the night, itching to tap out a reply to
Adele’s message, but had reminded himself that if she, too, never put her phone
on silent when she went to sleep, she wouldn’t be very happy with him if he
woke her up. And the only time he really wanted to wake her up was when he was
lying in bed beside her, his cock ready and raring to go for another round.

A glance down at his tented boxers told him that his dick
was sharing the same sentiment as his brain, and he let out a sigh. He didn’t
have time for this—he barely had time in his morning schedule to reply to
Adele’s message, never mind toss off while thinking about her. So figuring that
taking himself one step closer to an actual relationship instead of one based
only in daydreams and smutty dreams was a better option, he pulled up her
message and hit reply. He hoped she was either an early riser or a heavy
sleeper, otherwise he could end up in trouble.

Hi Adele,

Good to hear from you. Glad you got my note. I’m working
til 1pm today. Are you free this afternoon?

Oliver x

He sent the message, then stored her number in his phone.
Then he set about getting ready for work. Coffee, first and foremost, then
breakfast, then a shower. Pulling on a T-shirt, he went into the kitchen.

The kettle hadn’t even finished boiling when his phone
beeped. Snatching it up from the kitchen table, he beamed as he read the reply,
then heaved a sigh of relief that she was up and about already. He doubted her
message would have been as nice or as prompt if he’d woken her.

I can be. Meet you at 1.30 in the leisure center cafe? Or
2? Does that give you enough time?

A xx

He noted the addition of another kiss. Pleased, he said that
1:30 would be fine, adding two kisses of his own. Hell, he could be off his
lifeguard’s chair, into his civvies and in the café by ten past one if
necessary. But he figured that she maybe had things to do too. The fact she’d
suggested meeting in the leisure center café hinted that she was probably
heading there anyway, so he’d likely be seeing her in her swimsuit again, very
soon. His cock twitched in response to that thought and he ignored it once
more. The last thing he wanted now was to be late for work. If he was, he’d
have to make the time up—his boss was a total ball-buster—and that meant he’d
be cutting it fine to meet Adele. Even though he could pop out and let her know
if that was the case, he didn’t want to. He wanted to show her that he was
punctual, trustworthy and keen.

This could be the beginning of something great and he wanted
to get off on the right foot. Especially considering how he’d already screwed
up once.

He was bang on time for work and he walked into the
staffroom whistling merrily. Two of his colleagues looked at him curiously and
he wished them a hearty good morning, getting murmurs in reply. Just then, his
boss walked in and he said the same to her. After stashing his bag in his
locker, he headed out to the pool and to his station. The center hadn’t even
opened yet, so there was no one in the water to watch over, but really he just
wanted a few moments of peace and quiet in which to think. Naturally, he could
think pretty much right through his shift—people hardly ever got into trouble
in the water, thankfully—but deeper thought required silence and no
interruptions.

By the time the center opened, he’d resolved to stop
stressing so much about what he was going to say to Adele, how he was going to
be. Crazy thoughts had skittered around his mind like mice on speed until a
sensible part of his brain had overruled them. Of course he just had to be
himself. Anything else would be false, not to mention stupid. He wanted to have
a relationship with Adele based on trust and honesty, and that wouldn’t be the
case if he was being somebody he wasn’t. And if she didn’t like him exactly how
he was, then things wouldn’t be right anyway.

No, he’d just go in as calmly as possible and hope he didn’t
say something stupid. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he did, though.
Alex had hinted that Adele had been single for a while, so she’d probably be
nervous, too. They’d just muddle through together. And if it went well he’d ask
her out again. And if that went well he’d request a third date. Baby steps,
that was the best way forward. No point stressing about things that might or
might not happen.

Several hours crawled by. At one point he actually thought
time had stopped. Then things suddenly jolted from a snail’s pace to warp speed
when he saw Adele walk out of the ladies’ changing rooms. Fortunately, the
three bitches who always slagged her off weren’t around, so she was free to
walk around and go about her business without being bothered by them.

He fidgeted in his chair as she grew closer. He sat up
straighter.

“Hi,” she said as she drew level with his chair, tilting her
head to look up at him, “you all right?”

“Hi,” he replied, grinning. “I’m good, thanks, you? Do you
always get up so early? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

He suddenly hoped like hell that no one was eavesdropping on
their conversation because it kind of sounded as if they’d spent the night
together. Not that he’d have done anything wrong if that were the case, but he
didn’t think his boss would approve of him discussing his love and sex life
while he was on the clock.

“No, I’m an early riser. Which is ridiculous, really, given
how late it often is when I get to bed after work. A lie-in for me is 7:30!
Fortunately I seem to function okay even though I don’t always get my
recommended eight hours.”

“Well you look fine to me. It’s obviously not doing you any
harm.”

A slight pinkness spread across Adele’s cheeks. She looked
both gorgeous and adorable and he suddenly wished he weren’t at work so he
could take her in his arms and kiss her until the pinkness grew red and she
gasped and whispered his name.

She cleared her throat. “Well I’d better get my swim in.
I’ve got a hot date later.”

“Have you, indeed?” he replied with a wink. “Well I hope you
have a good time, and that he’s good enough for you.”

“Thanks. I reckon he is, but I’ll let you know.” She winked
back, then turned and headed to the deep end of the pool. Glancing at the
clock, she executed a perfect dive—even he couldn’t have done it any better—and
started to cut through the water at her usual breakneck speed. He watched as
subtly as possible—using mostly his peripheral vision—as she did all thirty
laps in one go, then reached the end of the pool and pulled herself out with
barely a break.

Passing him once more, she said, “I’m going to the gym and
the sauna now. I’ll see you in the café later, okay?”

“Looking forward to it.”

She grinned, blushing again, and walked away. It was then he
noticed that he too, had heat in his cheeks. God, but that woman had gotten
under his skin! Hopefully it was a good sign, and at this time tomorrow he’d
have a good idea about where things were going with them—if anywhere.

Finally one o’clock arrived. He tried not to look too eager
to get away as Linda turned up for her shift. They exchanged a few polite words
and he sauntered away as casually as possible. As soon as he was through the
staffroom door and out of sight, he dashed to his locker, retrieved his bag and
hit the staff changing room. Removing his work clothes, he grabbed his
deodorant and cologne and put a little on. Not too much, though—he knew that
too much smelly stuff could be just as bad as body odor. Then he put on his
best jeans and a smart-casual shirt. He was just dressed up enough to show he’d
made the effort, but not so much that he’d look out of place in a café.

After wetting his hair and running a little gel through it,
he washed his hands, grabbed his bag and headed out into the corridor. It was
twenty-five past one, so by the time he got to the café on the next floor, he’d
only be a minute or two early. Perfect.

Reluctant to even wait for the lift, he jogged up the
stairs, only to catch up with Adele a few steps from the top.

“Oh, hey,” he said, falling into step beside her. “You
didn’t want to wait for the lift, either, huh?”

“Not exactly. I have a bit of a pact with myself. If I’m
going up five floors or less, I use the stairs. Unless I’m carrying a load of
stuff, of course. I’m not masochistic.”

“That’s a pretty good rule. I might steal it, if you don’t
mind. Though I agree, when you’re carrying something, especially if it’s heavy,
using the lift is fine. And if you’re late.”

“Agreed. And I don’t mind you stealing my rule. Especially
if you keep meeting me in all the stairwells!”

“I can’t promise but I’ll do my best.” They reached the
landing and Oliver opened the door to the café, ushering Adele through. “After
you.”

“Thank you.”

They passed into the din of the café, which was almost full
of people on mobile phones, harassed mothers with screaming children and a
group of early teens with a couple of teachers.

“Quick,” Oliver said, pointing to the farthest corner.
“There’s a free table. Go and grab it. What are you having?”

“White coffee, no sugar, please.”

“Something to eat?”

“Maybe in a little while. I’ll grab the table first, then
come back and have a look what’s on offer.”

“Okay.”

Adele dashed off to secure the table and Oliver joined the
end of the queue. He checked out the selection of cakes and biscuits on display
as he waited, figuring he’d have something when Adele did. He didn’t want to
turn up with something to eat if she didn’t have anything yet. Plus if they ate
at the same time, that would ultimately leave more time for talking. And that,
in his opinion, was essential. He wanted to get to know as much about her as he
could. It might give him some ideas about where they could go on future dates,
if she agreed to keep seeing him.

He could only hope.