Paradise Fields (13 page)

Without lifting his mouth from hers, he manoeuvred her to the sofa and drew her onto it. Then they were both horizontal, he slightly on top of her. When at last he stopped for breath, she said, ‘What on earth am I doing?'

‘Kissing me,' said Jake decisively. ‘And doing it very well, thank you.'

‘But I—' Opening her mouth was a fatal mistake; Jake had it covered in an instant.

This is so nice, thought Nel. So, so nice. I'd forgotten how lovely it is to lie next to someone and kiss. But I really, really shouldn't be doing it. She fought free. ‘Jake, I . . .'

Jake, prevented from kissing her mouth, laid his lips on the cleavage he'd complained had been so distracting. It felt like heaven. All Nel's suppressed sexuality surfaced. Suddenly it wasn't enough to have his lips on the place where her breasts met, she wanted her breasts bare, so he could caress them, take her nipples in his mouth.

He pulled down the little black top (which
was
really underwear) and revealed her bra. Oh God, thought Nel, my bra. It was one of those designed by architects for a television programme, and though extremely comfortable, supportive and practical, it was about as sexy as armour-plating. But – Nel thanked God more fervently than she'd thanked him for a long time – it
was black. Her white bras stayed white for about two washes.

She sat up, trying to summon the will to stop doing what was giving her so much pleasure. He took advantage of her position to remove her jacket. Then her arms, which no one saw except in summer, were exposed, and being held, gripped in his fingers. She wasn't sure arms were on the list of erogenous zones, but his hold on hers was making her melt just as much as everything else he was doing.

Nel decided she was being too passive; her clothes were being flung off at a rate of knots. Jake's tie was in his pocket, but otherwise he was fully dressed. Her fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons. She struggled to get the first one undone.

‘How did people manage when men wore shirt studs,' she breathed, abandoning the button while he got his hands behind her to undo her bra.

‘I expect it was a technique people learned,' he said, revealing his own expertise as he removed her bra.

Nel swallowed, her breathing uneven. No man had seen her breasts for a very long time and at first she felt extremely self-conscious, but when she saw Jake's reaction to them, she just felt sexy and powerful.

She made another attempt at his collar but he pushed her hands away and just pulled the two halves apart until the button flew off. She found herself wondering briefly who would sew it back on, until his shirt and jacket came off together and she saw his chest. If she'd thought about it, she'd have known he was fit, with all the sport he did. But seeing his bare chest, with its well-defined pectorals, shadowed with hair, made her gasp. She had an overpowering desire
to feel it against her own torso, to trail her nipples over his muscles.

‘Shall we go to bed?' breathed Jake. ‘It would be more comfortable.'

Nel shook her head. She was in the throes of passion, but she knew if they changed venues, sense would come rushing back, and she'd stop. She didn't want to stop. She didn't want to be sensible. She wanted, more than anything else in the whole wide world, to go on doing what she was doing, to have sex with Jake. It was the first time for ten years, and she didn't want her brain, or her conscience, or anything coming between her and this blissful experience.

‘Hang on a minute then.' Jake leaned over and burrowed at the side of the sofa. There was a grinding noise and a jolt, and the back of it tipped back and the seat slid forward. ‘That's better.' He laid her down so she was flat on her back and, propping himself on one elbow, did all the things her breasts wanted him to do.

A little later, he struggled with the zip on her trousers.

‘You have to hold the top bit together, otherwise it catches,' she breathed. A moment later she regretted giving him the hint as she recalled her knickers. Big knickers had better be in, she thought, knowing they weren't, knowing that to be a sex kitten these days you had to wear a thong.

Jake didn't comment, didn't even look, as he slid down trousers, pants and tights together. They got stuck on her boots.

‘This is ridiculous,' breathed Nel, struggling upright.

‘Don't move.' He pushed her back and kept her there by stroking her stomach as he struggled, one-handed,
with the zips. Could he feel the stretch marks, she wondered? Would he find them off-putting?

She sighed when she was completely naked, and so did he. ‘God, you're so sexy,' he breathed.

Nel stopped worrying about her knickers or her stretch marks and laughed. She felt sexy. She felt desirable, wanton, and totally feminine. She fumbled at the hook at the top of his trousers. Impatient, he brushed her hands away and did it himself.

‘You're not going to just rip them apart, then?'

‘I haven't got that many suits, and this is easy.'

The sensation of skin against skin was ecstasy. It had been so long since Nel had felt that electricity. She lay back and he lay on top of her, crushing her slightly before rolling over and pulling her on top of him. She paused a moment before moving off him and paying his body the sort of attention she felt it deserved. She wanted to read his body with her fingers, examine every curve and hollow. Her mind may have forgotten the joy and beauty of a man's body, but her senses hadn't. When she'd studied every silken inch of his torso, she echoed the movements of her fingers with her mouth. She took his nipples gently between her teeth and felt them respond immediately. He groaned softly and she moved onto his chest hair, tugging at it with her mouth. He sighed deeply, sat up, and took over.

Nel had only ever made love to one person in her life, but somehow, between them, she and Jake swiftly worked out how to make each other happy. Possibly, she reflected, because everything he did to her sent her skywards, and similarly, everything she did to him seemed to please him. It was only afterwards, when he moved off her, and they were both panting and hot from
their exertions, that Nel allowed her brain to take back control of her thoughts.

‘That was so bloody fantastic,' said Jake, still breathing heavily. ‘You are the sexiest, most brilliant woman.'

Nel's body was sated, happy from sex which had no right to be so utterly satisfying. But now emotion rushed in: doubt, guilt, the horrible realisation that she'd just had sex, for the first time in ten years, with a man she hardly knew.

‘Can I get you anything?' he asked, concerned at her silence.

Nel sat up, reaching for what clothes she could find and holding them to her, even though some of them were Jake's. The elation of a few moments ago was suddenly offset with a despondency as deep as the elation had been high. She'd changed her life irrevocably, and she'd done it without thinking. It was as insane as flinging yourself off a cliff on impulse. Somehow, she must scrabble herself back to sanity, to what she knew and valued and trusted. If she could have expunged the whole experience from her memory, she'd have done it.

‘Listen, Jake.' God, what to say? She tried again. ‘That was very nice. Very, very, nice actually, but it shouldn't have happened. And I don't want you to feel obliged to ring me or get in touch with me in any way.' She paused, alarm building inside her. ‘In fact, you mustn't. We'll just draw a line, and move on. And could I use the bathroom please.'

‘Nel – darling, what's wrong?'

‘I think you know what's wrong, what we just did is wrong.' At his look of utter bewilderment, Nel's alarm
boiled over into panic. She had to think. ‘Could you just tell me where the bathroom is please?'

Jake got up, and Nel tried to avoid looking at his splendid, squash-playing body as he opened a door. ‘Here,' he said, taking something out of a cupboard. ‘Have a clean towel. Do you want your toothbrush and stuff?'

Nel nodded, gripping the clothes with all her strength, even though no one was trying to take them away from her.

When her plastic bag was in her hand, and the bathroom door safely closed, she burst into tears. She couldn't think straight: there were too many emotions battling within her. She switched on the shower, as much to hide the noise as anything, and cold water shot round the room as she lost control of the shower head.

Eventually she pulled herself together sufficiently to reattach it, adjust the temperature, and then get under it.

The hot water pouring over her was very soothing. It must be a power shower, she realised, picking up bottles at random. She would have to wash her hair, of course; she opened a bottle of Vosene. Trust Jake to use Vosene, she thought, such a horrid smell. Then she started to cry again. Mark had used it too.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged, her hair wrapped in a towel, wearing a robe which smelt of Jake. She was clutching a bundle of clothes, although she knew that some of them, Jake's, might not recover from their experience.

Jake was now wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, somehow managing still to look disturbingly sexy. Nel knew her face was red, she had no make-up on,
and a combination of tears and shampoo had probably made her eyes puffy and pink-rimmed.

‘Here,' said Jake. ‘I've found you some pyjamas to sleep in. And I've made Horlicks. Do you like Horlicks?'

Nel nodded, still not trusting herself to speak. Jake tenderly took the clothes as she sat down on the edge of what was now a sofa again.

She cleared her throat. ‘I'm afraid they got a bit wet. I had to wrestle with the shower and at first it won.'

‘It is a bit unruly. Why did you take my clothes?'

‘It was a mistake.' Nel sipped her Horlicks, relishing the soothing, sickly-sweetness of it. ‘It has all been a terrible mistake. Which is why I want you to promise never, ever to refer to it. We must just pretend it didn't happen.'

Jake looked astonished. ‘But it did. And it was fantastic. How can you pretend it didn't happen? Or not want it to happen again? I wouldn't have put you down as someone who went in for one-night stands.'

She wriggled uncomfortably on the sofabed. ‘I'm not. I don't have sex at all. This was just an aberration.'

‘You don't have sex at all? Why ever not?'

Nel shrugged. ‘I'm a widow.'

‘Yes, but you're also a woman! A very sexy and attractive one. How long is it since your husband died?'

‘Ten years.'

‘Ten years! Are you telling me that this is the first sex you've had for ten years?'

Nel nodded. In spite of her remorse, which threatened to overcome her, she couldn't help feeling just a little bit smug that he hadn't been able to tell.

‘Well, you certainly haven't forgotten what to do.'

She shrugged. ‘Well, I suppose it's like riding a bicycle—'

‘Sweetheart, if you think that was like riding a bicycle, you haven't ridden one for even longer than ten years!'

She let herself smile. ‘I have actually, but I don't think I'll be riding one again anytime soon.'

He came and sat beside her, and put his arm round her shoulders. ‘Come on, let's go to bed, and we'll see if you can still remember what to do in the morning.'

Nel moved away from him. ‘No! I meant what I said. We must pretend this hasn't happened, never refer to it, draw a veil. I'll sleep here.'

‘But why? We could have something absolutely fantastic between us!'

‘We could have fantastic sex between us, I'll grant you that, but nothing else. But I'm not someone who just has sex. This was a momentary lapse. I didn't mean anything by it.'

Jake got up, frowning. ‘I think you're mad.'

‘I know that. But I still want you to promise me you won't ring or try to see me or anything. I'm sorry to be so . . . so . . .'

‘Neurotic? Cavalier?' She couldn't tell whether the expression on his face was hurt or anger.

She nodded. ‘Cavalier is about it, when you've been so kind. But that's how it's got to be, I'm afraid.'

‘But why? Why can't we go out? See if we have anything else in common apart from fabulous sex?' Now she saw his expression was disbelief. Probably couldn't believe his luck.

‘Because, apart from the fact that we're on opposing sides on an issue that is very, very important to me, I
have three grown-up children. I can't just have relationships with people.'

‘Yes, you can! Anyway, you've got that Simon.'

She was horrified. Now, not only would he think her a very easy lay, he would think she was a two-timing slut. ‘How do you know about Simon?'

‘I saw you with him at the farmers' market and I asked around.'

‘About me?' Nel squeaked.

‘Yes, about you.'

‘You wanted to know what kind of madwoman you were up against, I suppose.'

‘You could say that,' he muttered, with a touch of exasperation.

‘Well, I think I should go to bed now.'

‘Fine. I'll find you some bedding.'

‘I don't need much. A sleeping bag would be fine.'

‘Oh shut up!' He was definitely angry now.

He produced a pile of pillows, a duvet and some sheets. ‘Would you like me to make up the bed for you?'

‘Don't be ridiculous! Go to bed!' Her attempt at authority was marred by the quiver in her voice.

‘I'll just use the bathroom first, if that's all right by you.'

‘Fine! Oh, and Jake . . .'

‘What?'

‘Thank you for having me to stay.'

He gave her a look which indicated she might have gone too far, that any moment he might arrange a repeat performance of what had gone on before. To her relief and disappointment, he didn't. He just said tightly, ‘Don't mention it. It was a pleasure.'

As she lay in the dark Nel pondered on the
strangeness of men. He should have been delighted that she didn't want a relationship. He wouldn't want one with a woman who might well be a couple of years older than he was. She was letting him off lightly. Fantastic sex – she sighed – but none of the complications.