Memoirs of a Wild Child (5 page)

Rafe was the most handsome man I had ever seen. I was never attracted to him as such, but he was and still is, beautiful. He always kept himself in great shape; tall, muscly and he has the most perfectly chiselled jaw known to man. He kept his dark brown hair short, but long enough for the soft curls to form and be perfectly styled, and those eyes… it was like drowning in a vat of melted chocolate!

The man is divine, and I always knew he would look hot fucking, but the thought of it didn’t prepare me for the reality. Two occasions during our time in the flat cemented my suspicion as fact. The first was after a night out; we all headed back to ours with the fruits of our night out on our arms. Rosie had her boyfriend with her and headed straight for her bedroom, Rafe and I had managed to pull a set of identical twins. It was just our luck that we found a matching pair of hotties, one gay, one straight and both single. We took them home and showed them a bloody good time. In the middle of the night, I woke up; alone of course, he’d fulfilled his duties so off he’d gone on his way. I made my way into the kitchen to get a glass of water and heard a bang in the living room, I went to investigate, assuming that everyone would be asleep, and was faced with the sight of Rafe’s toned delicious arse pounding away at his the hottie warming his bed. At least, I assumed it was the same guy that Rafe had brought home, until he walked out of Rafe’s bedroom and laughed, before walking back in. Apparently the bloke I’d just fucked senseless, fancied a bit of what his brother had already tasted.

The second thing that confirmed in my mind how hot Rafe would be in the sack, was being in the sack with him. I know, weird on so many levels; but we went there. Just once, and we were heavily under the influence of a lot of shit, but that man knows how to fuck.

I cringe at the memory of that crazy night in Spain. I toy with the idea of leaving the sordid details out of Vinnie’s innocent pages, but he needs to know, he needs to know it all.

Ben knows everything about me, I was adamant when we got together that he would never have to find out something by accident or from somewhere else, so I laid everything out on the table for him and answered any questions he had, and he did the same for me.

I twirl the pen around in my fingers, nervous to actually write down an experience that now seems a little incestuous. I’m going to do it, I am, but I need a cup of tea first.

After putting the kettle on to boil and standing in the kitchen, wiggling my hips through a couple of strong pains in my back, I make a sweet cup of tea and settle back onto the sofa, pulling the soft knitted blanket that my Mum made for Holly over my legs and making myself comfortable.

I pick up Vinnie, “Right then, Vinster, don’t judge me, okay?” I say aloud before opening the book in my hands and continuing to write.

“Where’s Rosie?” Rafe flopped down on the bed and suddenly realised his sister wasn’t with us.

“She’s gone to bed,” I laughed. “She went ages ago. Are you really that fucked up?”

“Has she?” He ignored my question, “Nice one, I’ll do another line then.”

Rosie never really did drugs. She tried a couple of times, but it wasn’t for her. Rafe and me, however, did use to enjoy a joint, and a line or a pill, or twelve, when we were partying.

“Do it off me!” I said excitedly, my eyes widening at the prospect.

We had already been partying for going on twelve hours at this point. The party at Rosie and Rafe’s auntie’s house in Spain had gotten a little crazy, but they always did, that’s why we kept going back.

Rafe crinkled his nose, then playfully pushed me back on the bed, lifting my top to expose my bare belly. He reached up the bed for the small bag of white powder and carefully tipped some of the contents onto my skin. It tickled, and I giggled.

“Oi, spill this on the bed and you’re in trouble, Pipsqueak.” Rafe scolded me, and I stopped gigging.

Rafe has always been like a brother to me, but the truth was, and is, he is fucking beautiful. He works out almost every day, he dresses well and smells amazing all of the damn time. I know he’s gay, and under normal circumstances, I didn’t find myself attracted to him; but there, in the heat of the Spanish summer, with a belly full of booze and fifty quid’s worth of coke up my nose, I was practically dripping for him.

Everything clenched as he lowered down and snorted the line from below my belly button, I gasped, loudly and Rafe looked up at me surprise clear in his eyes.

“Are you turned on, Philippa?” He asked, grinning.

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I tossed my head to the side to try and hide my embarrassment.

Rafe straddled me, giggling and then leaned down so that his mouth was just millimetres from my ear, “Do you want me, Pip?”

It was a whisper, gravelly and full of promise. I was so confused as goose bumps sprung up all over my body. I turned my head so that I could look into his eyes.

“Shall we?” he asked, eyes full of mischief. He looked so playful that I couldn’t tell if he was serious. “Pippa, I’m so fucked up right now, but it’s us. We’ve been two sides of the same coin forever, living the same life. I think, at this point we need to fuck, so that we can carry on.” He was still straddling me, and I realised that he meant it.

“Rafe?” His name was a question. He leant down again so that his face was above mine, and I could see in his eyes that he actually wanted this.

“Babe, I want to get my balls emptied, and every bloke out there is passed out.” He nodded towards the bedroom door. “We’re shitfaced, and we’ll probably going to regret this in the morning, but let’s just do it. If I’m going to fuck a woman, it should really be you.”

The room was spinning, I was smashed and horny and wanted to say yes. I had watched him at work, and honestly, seeing him fuck was amazing, I don’t think I had ever been so turned on by anything up to that point. He was naked, beautiful and totally in charge of whoever was under him. “Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Rafe jumped up off the bed excitedly. “Wicked. Right, I’m going to get us some drinks, you set a couple of lines up.”

I took the bag of powder over to the dresser and poured it out onto the frosted glass, before carefully using Rafe’s bank card to create four neat strips. I leant down and snorted one, closing my eyes briefly, before opening them to see in the mirror that Rafe was standing behind me holding up a bottle of Jack Daniels and grinning.

I turned, took the bottle and stepped aside. I swigged from the bottle as Rafe leant down to snort a line. He looked commanding and sexy; I was burning up.

Rafe took the bottle from me and stepped towards me. I lifted my shirt up over my head and off, throwing it on the bed. Rafe started to chuckle, and so did I. I cleared my throat and straightened my face, before giving him a look that said ‘Take this seriously, Alvez!”

I unbuttoned my jean shorts and pushed them to the floor before reaching out and taking the bottle from his hands. Rafe pulled off his t-shirt, and I put the bottle down on the dresser. I stood in front of Rafe, looked him in the eyes through the mirror, and then bent down to sniff another line. I felt Rafe’s big hands on my sides and hips, and I pushed my ass backwards on instinct. Rafe pulled me back against his crotch, forcefully, causing me to gasp. It was easy to be turned on, for me at least. I found him totally sexy at that moment, and even though Rafe wasn’t attracted to women, he seemed to be figuring it out.

My eyes met Rafe’s in the mirror, and he smirked, “Get on the bed then,” he said, smirking, amusement in his voice. He practically threw me aside, and I climbed onto the bed. 

Rafe turned and looked at me, his hands came to the button of his shorts, and he paused for a few seconds, looking down. I wasn’t sure if he was going to stop the whole thing, but then he looked up, smiled his sexy ass ‘I’m about to get laid’ smirk and undid the buttons, before pushing his shorts to the floor. He didn’t have boxer shorts on, holy fuck!

My hand came up to my mouth in shock at seeing his dick, and I giggled at the surprise, but my god, it was a beautiful thing.

Once I got used to Rafe being naked in front of me, I took my hand from my mouth and realised for the first time that we weren’t just fucking about, we were doing this. I licked my lips and took a deep breath as Rafe started to stroke his cock.

I knew foreplay was not going to be part of the deal that night, it would be straight down to business, and I was fine with that, I just wanted to know how that gorgeous thing felt inside me.

I lifted myself up onto my knees, and turned my back on him, before dropping to all fours. I thought that might make it easier for him, and apparently it did. I heard the condom packet rip open and clenched my eyes shut in anticipation. There was no going back from this.

“You are sure about this?” he questioned as if he read my mind.

I sighed and let out a brief laugh, “No, but I want to anyway.” I replied, and not needing any more instruction, Rafe pulled my knickers down my legs to my knees and moved forward, pressing the tip of his hard cock against me. ‘At least he’s managed to get it up.” I thought, wondering who or what he had thought of to get him hard.

“You might need to help me out here, babe.” He said, holding my hips. I reached behind me and took hold of him, guiding him inside me as he inhaled sharply and gripped his fingers into my hips.

I moaned, he was deep, and I loved it. He stayed still for just a moment until I rolled my hips, and he grunted. Then ran his hands up and down my back.

“Are your eyes closed?” I asked, breathlessly.

“Yeah,” he almost laughed his reply, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” I said, laughing a little at the scene, “Just fuck me.”

Rafe let out a small groan, before pushing my hips forward and pulling me back, hard. I yelped at the severity of the thrust, but I loved it. He did it again, slamming every inch of himself into me as I let out a scream.

Rafe started to pick up the pace, finding his rhythm as I tightened around him. I reached my hand between my legs, causing me to drop my chest to the bed and letting him go even deeper as I found my clit and start to rub hard. I was on the edge, clenching as my orgasm started to build.

“I’m close.” I breathed into the mattress, and Rafe sped up, fucking me so hard and fast that I was sure I’d have bruises where his fingers were digging into my skin.

He let out a breathy moan that told me how close he was too, so with a deep exhale, I let go, let my orgasm take hold as I screamed and moaned into the fabric underneath me. Rafe grunted and breathed heavily, as he thrust into me before slowing, and coming to a stop.

Neither of us spoke for a minute that seemed like an hour. Rafe eventually pulled out of me and slapped my arse. I started to laugh, hysterically and he joined me, collapsing next to me on the bed.

“What the fuck did we do?” I said, turning over to look at the ceiling.

“Bucket list, baby, one less thing to tick off!” he replied.

The High Life
 

My waters broke at seven fifteen; by nine am, I was ten centimetres dilated and ready to start pushing, and by three pm, I was at home.

Cooper’s birth was fast, just like Holly’s, but at least he was a little closer to his due date than she was.  All nine, chunky, delicious pounds of him. 

Being healthy, and having done this before, I was allowed to go home to recuperate after the birth. Really, I think they just needed my bed, but I’m not complaining, I’d rather be in my own bed than a hospital bed any day.

Rosie has just dropped an excited Holly home and after cooing over her newest ‘nephew’ for an hour, she has gone home now, to allow my girl get to know her new brother.

I look at her, sitting next to me on my bed, with her legs hanging over the edge as she stares into the Moses basket in front of her; she is stunned.  Holly has seen babies before, in our little group, there is always one of us popping a kid out, but this is different for her. Maybe somewhat naively, I hadn’t realised it would be, but she is besotted. I reach out and stroke her curls away from her cheek, grabbing her attention and causing her to look at me, there are tears in her eyes and my heart breaks.

“Oh, baby, are you okay?” I ask, concerned. She nods.

“I love my baby brother, Mummy.” Holly says before starting to sob, and I join her. Bless her heart; she doesn’t know how to control the emotion that she is feeling, and it cuts me to the core. My babies; the most important thing in this whole world.

Ben comes back from Sainsbury’s with some supplies for the next few days to find his wife and two children curled up in bed watching the Wizard of Oz.

“What’s happening here, then?” he questions playfully, as Holly jumps up excitedly at the sight of her Daddy. Ben scoops her up into his arms, and she giggles, it’s the best sound in the world. “Can I join you all?” he asks her, sincerely, and she wraps her arms tightly around his neck, it’s the answer he needs as they climb into bed alongside Cooper and me. My family, my world.

Holly has taken Ben to the Science Museum today. I know he ‘should’ be in charge, but let’s not pretend that’s the case. Cooper and I are currently considering getting dressed and going into the living room, but, honestly, my bed and daytime TV don’t want to let me go, and who am I to argue?

I look down at my son.
My
son, I have a beautiful little boy in my arms, and he’s mine. I made him. A wave of emotion washes over me as I take in his features. He looks just like his sister did when she was born, bigger, of course, but otherwise, the image of Holly.

His pouty little lips pucker, and he frowns as I stroke a finger across his cheek. Before I had Holly, I had no idea how intense the love for my children would be. Even when I was pregnant with her, I couldn’t imagine it. I didn’t believe I could love anyone more than I loved Ben. But when she was placed in my arms, just like with Cooper yesterday, my heart actually grew. It ached for them instantly, all consuming love, at first sight.

I can’t believe that, for such a long time, I was adamant that I would never have children, never have a husband. I’m glad that I didn’t have a baby before Ben. I’m so glad that my stubborn reluctance to grow up and settle down meant that I never settled for less than him. I’m so grateful that he waited for me. He never gave up hope that we would end up together, so he never got too serious with anyone else. I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but my god, I’m thankful for it.

My mind drifts back to a time when everything I have in my life now seemed a million miles away. I close my eyes and see the only other man I’ve ever loved, or at least I thought I did. Compared to what I have now, and what I feel now, Simon was nothing more than a sparring partner. We matched each other in looks, height, financial security, adventurous nature and libido. I thought at the time that meant more than it did, but really, we just had a lot of fun for the short time that we were together.

After a lightening-quick shower while Cooper slept, I got dressed, fed and changed him and we made our way into the living room. I spent another thirty minutes or so just looking at him, before putting him back down in his Moses basket, and reaching for Vinnie.

I hadn’t intended on picking my journal up this soon after giving birth, but with an empty house, a sleeping baby and the memories of Simon fresh in my mind, why the hell not?

“Let me get those.” A deep voice said from beside me, and I turned to look at the source. A man mountain, in a Saville Row suit, was smiling next to me. His short dark hair was styled neatly and perfectly accentuated his chiselled features, drawing my attention to his eyes. Those eyes, I should have known then that he was a shark, they were as black as night, but at the time, I was mesmerised.

Not many men in my life have been able to send me into a tailspin. For a start, I’m five foot ten in flats, and I don’t often wear flats. So most men find themselves looking up to me, even if only a little. I, like most women in the world, want to be able to drown in the embrace of my partner, to feel safe and warm. With my height, I’ve often had to sacrifice that. But as I looked at him, leaning casually against the bar in his bespoke suit, smiling, smelling delicious and actually making me feel small, I melted. He was gorgeous; I was in.

“Okay, I won’t say no to a tall dark and handsome stranger, especially not one in a suit that good,” I replied, playfully taking his lapel between my finger and thumb. He grinned and looked down at the suit in question before casually looking back up to me and handing a fifty-pound note to the barman. That was for show, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, money doesn’t impress me, sweetheart, I have my own.” I leaned forward with a glass of wine in each hand and spoke quietly into his ear. “What impresses me, are well-dressed men, massive dicks and great sex, let me know if you can deliver on any of those, and we can talk. Thanks for the drinks.” I stood up straight again and made eye contact for the briefest moment, before walking away to re-join Rosie at our table. Honestly, I felt hot as hell. The whole interaction turned me on so much that I would have let him fuck me at the bar if he had taken his dick out of those perfect trousers. I love cocky men; I can’t help it.

The shark and I watched each other from across the bar, making eye contact for brief flashes, in between conversations with our respective friends or colleagues. I wanted him; I needed to have a man that delicious all over me. I wanted to smell him on me and feel him inside me, more than I could bear.

As I tried to listen to Rosie talk about her new, utterly boring, boyfriend, Michael, I found myself zoning out a little. “Go,” she said monotonously, and I turned to look at her, tearing my eyes from his and releasing my bottom lip from between my teeth. “Philippa, go, get him.”

Heat flushed my cheeks as she sighed, I hadn’t meant to ignore my best friend, and I certainly hadn’t intended on getting caught doing it. She smiled, she wasn’t offended, nor was she surprised. I took a sip of my wine and stood up slowly.

I felt as though I had just walked onto the pitch during a football match or climbed into a boxing ring ready to stand and fight. It was game time, and I was the star player.

I felt his eyes on me as I took my time turning away from our table; he was anticipating my next move. I smoothed my hands down the fabric of my purple dress, as though I was ridding it of creases, but really, I was just drawing his eye to my hips and arse. Then I turned and headed towards him; as I sauntered past his table towards the bathrooms, I made eye contact and telepathically, told him to follow me.

As I pushed open the door to the corridor I heard the screech of his chair as he pushed it back; Ding ding, seconds out… round one.

I took my time walking towards the door of the ladies’ room and stopped when I heard the door behind me open. I turned in the dimly-lit corridor and looked into dark, hungry eyes. Playfully, I tipped my head to the side, and he grinned, he got it.

“So, did you decide which one you can deliver on?” I asked, my voice low and slow and my knickers wet at the sight of him in that suit.

He let out a small laugh and stepped towards me, I mirrored his action, “Oh, believe me, gorgeous, I’ll deliver on all three, and more.” He reached out and took my arm before pulling me sharply towards him and hard against his body. He turned and slammed my back against the wall, using his body against mine, to pin me there, as he raised my arms above my head and held both wrists firmly with his left hand. I was throbbing for him.

I licked my lips and breathed in the scent of him. It was expensive aftershave mixed with raw power and masculinity.

He looked down at me and grinned before pressing his hard cock against my leg and lifting my dress with his right hand.

His fingers made their way inside my underwear, and he hummed in appreciation of my arousal, I was hot and soaking, for him. I gasped as he pushed a large finger inside me and then spread the moisture up to my clit.

The door started to open to the corridor, but he didn’t stop. Two fingers circled over the top of my clit as my knees started to buckle, and he just said ‘Out’ firmly, to whoever it was coming in. The level of authority in his voice just added to how turned on I was at that moment, and I started to breath heavily. “Look at me.” He commanded, and I complied, looking up into his intense, desire-filled eyes as he started to rub harder and faster inside my lace panties.

I bit my lip and started to pant as my orgasm washed over me. I bounced up and down, as my knees, now nothing but jelly, gave in to the pleasure controlling my body. I was moaning, a little too loudly for a public place on Friday lunchtime, but I didn’t care.

As my climax subsided, he reached further down and pushed two of his large fingers deep inside me. Instinctively, I pushed against them, wanting more as he leant into my ear and spoke, his voice gravelly. “We’re going to have a lot of fun you and me, just you wait.”

I felt empty as he withdrew his hand and pulled out the silk square from his suit jacket pocket. He used it to wipe my wetness from his fingers, before smelling it and smiling, never once taking his eyes off mine. Holy shit, he was hot.

Before leaving me standing in the corridor, Simon handed me his business card and told me to send him my number. He was the managing director of an advertising firm in the city, ‘among other things’, he had said playfully. I sent him my number as soon as I got back to the table and watched as he smirked at his phone, before looking at me and raising his fingers to his nose; the dirty fucker… I loved it!

A week after meeting Simon, I found myself waking up in an apartment in Montmartre, Paris with his head between my legs and a freshly opened bottle of champagne in a bucket next to the bed.

“Oh god, don’t you ever just sleep.” I breathed as I tipped my head back and enjoyed the sensations.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, baby,” he said, semi-seriously as he crawled up my body and plunged into me without warning. Fair enough, I suppose.

At the time, I was twenty-three, and Simon was forty-two, but he was in incredible shape and had more stamina than any other man I had shagged. I didn’t go home at all that first week; we just spent every night at his apartment, fucking, literally all night. We’d both go to work the next day and then do it all over again; fuck, sleep, work, repeat.

Simon was loaded, and impulsive. When on Friday we couldn’t get a reservation at his favourite French restaurant, he drove us to the airport and booked the first business class seats to Paris that were available. Within four hours, we were in the City of Light sipping champagne and eating exquisite food, naked, in a penthouse. It was wild.

My career at this point was as strong as it had ever been. My work was in Vogue and Esquire, on billboards worldwide and I was even exhibiting in galleries, selling my photos for thousands. I was doing good, I had a name for myself, but Simon was obscenely rich. He had been born into money but wasn’t content with resting on his laurels and worked his arse off to have his fingers in a number of lucrative pies.

He worked hard, and played harder, and back then, he was playing with me.

We spent the weekend drinking, eating, shagging and drinking some more. We took a private boat trip along the Seine, and I gave him a blowjob in the shadow of Notre Dame. It was exhilarating. Being with Simon set me alight, finally, someone who could keep up with me and wanted nothing more than to do just that.

Within a couple of months of seeing each other, Simon and I had been to Paris, Vegas and Rome. I wasn’t seeing much of anyone else, but I was happy. If this was what being a one-man woman was about, I could handle that.

“Philippa, where are you?” I heard Simon call out as he walked into my flat on Thursday night. I walked out of my bedroom in time to see him removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt in the living room. I loved watching him undress, especially if he’d had a bad day at the office. He was so aggressive and forceful on those days, and I knew I was about to get my brains fucked out.

“I’m here, what’s up?” I asked, hopeful that he was in a bad mood.

“Pack a bag. I have a meeting in New York tomorrow. We have a flight in two hours.”

I stepped backwards, shocked.

“Simon, I have a shoot on Monday. I need to prepare.” I argued.