Pearced (56 page)

Daniel and I share a room, it suddenly occurs to me we've never actually spent a night together like this, sex yes, but not sleeping.   Stripped down and fresh from the shower, his hair towel dried and still wet, he runs his fingers through it to tame his locks. It’s so seductive, so sexy, he catches me watching and smirks.  His body is perfection, his muscles tight and sculpted and he stands there perfectly naked for me to study. Slimmer as we all are from our adventure holiday and still incredibly hot.

“See anything you like?” He asks me, smiling, and turning around slowly so I can look at his tight arse and beautiful strong back.  Whoever tattooed him knew the shapes it would make on his body, and they placed them with great erotic effect, a woman perhaps?

My sex stirs, and the chain reaction of sensitive nerve endings begins inside me, urging me, I want him, I’ve never been surer about anything my whole life. This naked, playful, powerful, beautiful, fucked-up man, I want him all to myself.  Getting in-between the white sheets, he spoons me from behind I smell clean Daniel I take a lungful of it, pulling me tight to his body.  He is hard, but he just wants to hold me, and I am happy.    Speaking into my neck he whispers to me “baby, I want to hold you.” He kisses my nape, “I want to keep you forever.” Then nibbles my lobe, “keep you close.” His arms band around me tighter still, “know you’re mine.”  I can feel his breathing is shallow, his heartbeat slows, and he is asleep.  Moved by his words, and released myself from the tension this trip, and the last few weeks has built up in me, and for the first time, in a long time, I sleep.

Did I agree to live with him? Bloody brain, messing things up.

George and Harry are galloping around in a sweet smelling meadow, (
its summer then), happy and shiny, kicking their back ends high in the air in a buck.  The sun is shining, and….what!? It’s December, no November, I forget!??  Dreaming, yes, I’m dreaming.  I miss my lovely bay Trakehners, I want to go home.

We all sleep peacefully in real beds, even I manage to get a few hours nap time. I dream fitfully of people in jeans chasing us into the dark in yellow Landrovers, and George and Harry galloping around the desert looking for grass which doesn't grow there, and Daniel, far away I can’t reach him. Why are they always galloping? I can't answer that now, and the universe isn't helping either.  I wake and we lay in the same position we fell asleep in, Daniel still grips on tight to me, and his eyes flutter open, and beautiful soft gooseberry grey winks at me.  It’s very light outside, and like me he doesn’t like curtains, and prefers the sun to wake him.

Barbara and Pete cook an incredible breakfast feast to ready us for the flight home, scrambled eggs, fried mushrooms and tomatoes, Linda McCartney sausages, potatoes sautéed with onion and heaps of hot buttered toast. A massive teapot that holds about twelve cups of tea sits steaming in the centre of the table and we all sit chatting like it’s a normal family event and we've just been on vacation, and I sit missing my boys.

I feel the need to send a message,

TC: “Hello Mum, hope all OK with you!” I’m going to regret this aren’t I!

EC: “Surprised and shocked, is everything OK!” See?

TC: “Fine, just missing home.” True story.

EC: “Are you coming back soon? Love to cook you dinner, Henry will be in town” sounds good.

TC: “Really? That’s great, let’s get together.” I miss my family even more because I’ve spent ages with someone else’s, I long be amongst my own people.

EC: “I’ll cook dinner, do you eat fish, I forget?” How many times?

TC: “No Mum, just vegetables” I forget how many times I have told her, over how many years…I give up.  And she's only just learned not to put tomato on Henry's plate, he hates tomato, always has done.  He's 27.

EC: “Shame, call me when your home, love you.” Lovely.

No comment on my outfits or my hair, what’s wrong with Mum?

TC: “Love you Mum,”

EC: “Shall I book you an appointment at the salon, Gail is back?” There you go, that’s better, all’s well in the world.

“Is there any more tea in that pot?”

Part three:

Chapter forty,
Friday
:
8thnovember2013 – home

Returning home is incredible relief. The bitter clean cold of London oxygen.  The familiar smell of aviation fuel fills the freezing air around Heathrow is a welcome as we get out of the airport. A convoy of black sedans line up outside for us all and we jump into them in a configuration born of adventure and attraction.  Daniel and I get in alone, Stan speaks to our driver and they swap so he drives us.  A true protector, even after all the anxiety and excitement of the last week Stan resumes his rightful spot behind our wheel and we drive.  'Our' wheel, well I’ll be damned, even in my head we're sharing everything, well, not those horses, he can keep his well-manicured and tattooed fingers off them can't he?

Stan has been driving Daniel since he was at school, they know each other, and remain stoically professional.

My phone rings, signal yes!!  England yes!!! Essex, soon, yes, yes, yes!!!

TC: “Hello Mum, I’m in the car leaving Heathrow” hope that cheers her up considerably.

EC: “Glad, your Brother tells me he is in love, has he told you anything?” Kidding?

TC: “Mum, I’ve just landed, you're the first person I’ve spoken to” true story.

EC: “And I assumed it was only me you forgot to call Catharine” don’t start please.

TC: “Who is this girl Henry is dating?” Change the subject please.

EC: “Who knows, your his Sister, speak to him, apparently she's a vegetarian and has a tattoo, what is he thinking?” Is she kidding? She could be describing me!

TC: “She sounds most unsuitable, I’ll have a word” god help me!

EC: “You know what I mean, don't be obtuse.” What did I say?

TC: “I'll come see you, show you photos of Peru” there's thousands, thank goodness for my SkyDrive account, I just upload them all off my phone as I go.

EC: “It would be nice to see you, I’ve forgotten what you look like” aaaarrrgh!!! Mothers.

TC: “Bye Mum, see you soon” hope so.

Daniel's lips curl in amusement, he likely has similar conversations with his own Mother, who doesn’t? I wonder what Barbara thinks of me...or do I?  Course, its human nature.

The magazine from the plane is on my lap as I casually browse through, there's a promotional photo of my Brother and his band on the cover, and inside a double pager talking about the lead singer and their up-coming tour. And there is one with me last year, with our arms around each other, smiling at Henry's well deserved success, and the drummer I was dating, for a while.

TC: “Bro, Mum tells me you're in love” tell me it's true, I’d like him to be happy.

HC: “Sis, where are you?” Stalling, you won't get away that easily.

TC: “M25, tell me about this girl” could I be more clear?

HC: “She's talking about Carol” blimey, Mum was right, there's a girl.

TC: “Carol? Tell me” I don’t realise it until now, but my face is screwed up and the tip of my tongue is poking out. Daniel is watching me too.

HC: “She has a lovely shape and purrs like a kitten” bloody hell, do I want to hear this?  I decide in do.

TC: “Bloody hell Henry, what happened to that photographer?” She was at least as slutty as him, they suited each-other.

HC: “On a shoot” typical.

TC: “And you need to be endlessly entertained?” yep.

HC: “Carol is the one Tharie, every time I'm in her...” stop it, fingers over my ears lalalala!

TC: “Henry, I'm your Sister, there's things we don't...no, shouldn't share” true bloody story.

HC: “Carol, is my Triumph Herald, she's vintage dark green and comes from a time when girls were called Carol.” it's a great name for a car, I have to agree, didn't Dad have a Herald?

TC: “Love it Henry, text me a photo” I’m happy for him, and quite relieved, though not sure why…

HC: “Oh, she's not here, she's parked at Grace's house” ...dare I ask? I have to don't I?

TC: “Grace?” Please no.

HC: “The girl I’m going to marry Tharie, you'll love her, she's from Stock.” an Essex girl, I needn't have worried, sounds right after all.

Mum was right, though I don’t need to tell her that do I?  As I see my reflection in the black glossy surface of my quiet phone, I have to agree, my hair does need cutting.

I speak first, totally exhausted from the trip and the flight, I hate flying, it’s so boring, even when your boyfriend has his fingers down the front of your pants under the blanket the whole way home.  I hum my approval to myself, several climaxes later, I shiver in pleasure at the thought.

“I must get home,” I tell Daniel, relieved to be back, “I really miss my home.” I turn and look at Daniel, he is clenching his fists silently looking from the page open in my lap to the lit screen of his phone, his casual mood has slipped away, and back to a hard faced professional.  I’m not sure what's changed between us in that short while, or if it is the message that has caught him, but it feels stale in the back of the car.

“Can I come with you?” Daniel asks looking to the front.

“Daniel,” I whisper softly with an attempt at a smile, I desperately don’t want to be anywhere without him but I must learn to keep hold of the thing that's me, before he takes me over body first, mind later.   Being strong with myself I decline, “I just want to spend time at home, with my boys, and I’ll see you in a couple of days at your Mum's party, is that OK?” I can't believe I’m asking another person's permission to do something I fully intend to do regardless of the response.  The silence suggests that clearly it is not, or is it that he’s not used to being told no.

The silence is white noise in my head, not sure what to say, just as I am about to try anything Daniel hits the intercom button and asks Stan to take me home. “OK, he breathes, I’ll see you Saturday night Tharie.” Tharie, not baby, what's happened?

A 'shoulder-in' from K to M at trot.  Dressage, it's like maths. Trying to focus my mind.

He turns to me then, a masked expression, his eyes bore into mine, lust? Anger?  “I’m going into the office in the morning to sort a few things Daniel, shall we meet for lunch?” I try to stay happy sounding and light-hearted, not at all how I feel, and smile for an answer. The corners of his lips curl in a predatory expression and I suddenly know what a mouse feels like when he's trapped by a cat. But I want it.

Before I can respond he is on me, Daniels whole weight holding me down, his mouth over mine, kissing me, no devouring me hard and relentless. He is frantically struggling with my clothes, not a seductive undressing but a raw aggressive ripping of fabrics.  Yanking at my underclothes he tears my panties and throws them to the floor of the car.  Nothing is said between us.

Kissing me harder still his hands up under my top, roughly massaging my breasts, pulling the lace from them in fumbling desperation.  He pinches my nipples hard, my body responds instantly and convulses to meet his, turned on completely my insides begin their reaction.  Roughly he grabs my hips turning me over, so my chin is rested on the seat, my knees are on the floor and my arse is raised toward him. He is eating me with his lips all down my shoulders and neck, then from behind me I hear him undoing his jeans. All for him, not for me.

His fingers are in my sex, crazily flicking and rubbing over my clit getting me suitably wetter, he hums an approval. He wipes the end of his cock across my vagina smearing it in my juice, I love the feeling, he sticks it inside me just a little, once, I moan in delight.

Ow! I feel a slight pain as he jabs his thick slick cock deep inside me all the way to the tip. Pushing hard back into him I want to enjoy this too. Thrusting hard back and forth in and out in a quick steady rhythm, he is climbing.  My fingers white where I grip on so hard to the back of the seat.  He reaches down and fingers my clit for a second getting his fingers wet with me, and licking them sounds very satisfied with himself.  Faster and faster his thrusts in a steady speed, beating our flesh together with a smacking sound, faster, in and out, then in a second he is still and sated, his hot injection deep inside me, I finish myself off with my hand, hurt that he anger fucked me, and not sure why.

He climbs off me and dresses, making no attempt to help me, so solemnly I dress myself hunting for my clothes where they were angrily thrown around the back of the car. I sit back down, aware I’m without working underwear and the torn remnants of my Stella McCartney 'Friday' embroidered panties are in my jeans pocket, now no longer a set.

“Lunch then?” I manage, trying not to cry.

“Sure, I’ll call you then.” He still doesn’t look at me, answering the text message his fingers flying over the illuminated screen, now not focused on me at all.

“Who's that man in the photo?” He asks the universe, because he's certainly not speaking to me. His fists clench and unclench, white knuckles and silence, staring gooseberry hard eyes forward.

“Is that what this is about Daniel?” I am slightly shocked, men can be so stupid can't they? His question doesn't even qualify an answer.  Daniel spins his head slowly to face me, I suddenly think of the Exorcist film and half expect it to keep going.  Of course it doesn't, it's just my mind making ordinary events seem extraordinary.  Well, I
am
a designer after all, had you forgotten?  I find it hard to cope with Daniels Jekyll and Hyde mood, but knowing myself, I know there must have been a trigger to his new mood, the magazine photo? Surely not. And decide to remain still and quiet until I get home, like a grown-up.