Pole Position (11 page)

It had been fraught coming back home to live with my parents, especially when they were constantly at each other’s throats. Mum had a tendency to fuss over me, as though sharing their roof gave her the automatic right to share every aspect of my life. Dad meanwhile, wanted control of everything, and keeping the peace between them could be a full time job. I guessed Anita would be embarrassed at the prospect of meeting them over the breakfast table, so we engaged in a little subterfuge.

After some more leisurely lovemaking—God, I couldn’t get enough of her—I suggested we have breakfast in bed, and I slipped downstairs to refill the tray from the night before. Mrs. P was suitably horrified at my bruises. She chuckled when she realized I had a
friend
staying with me, assured me she’d pass on my excuses, and assembled breakfast for the both of us. Minutes later, I hurried back upstairs with fresh coffee, muesli, toast and marmalade, and some fruit.

She looked like an angel sitting in my bed, the duvet pulled up to her chin, blonde hair falling across her shoulders. My heart flipped when I saw her smile.

All my worries had been for nothing. Not only was she incredibly responsive to my touch, but she’d thoroughly enjoyed our night together.

Anita made me feel like I was a god, and joked that if she’d seen the size of my dick earlier, she wouldn’t have let me anywhere near her. But already, her fears were receding, leaving a healthy curiosity about sex. She was keen to know how to hold me, where to touch and kiss me, how to bring me to a groaning state of rapture. It took little on my part to reduce her to a quivering mass of pleasure.

I felt a huge swell of pride. We’d done this together.

I buttered the last triangle of toast and smeared it with a spoonful of marmalade before lifting it to her mouth.

“I can’t,” she giggled, and shrank back into the pillow. “I’ll burst if I eat any more.”

“Burst?” I raised my eyebrows in mock horror. “We can’t have that. I’d better check you’re not splitting at the seams.” I raised her arms one at a time and examined her sides, tickling her with my fingertips and kissing in their wake. “Here, hang on to this.” I popped the toast into her open mouth, ignoring her squawk of protest, and then bent over her very pert breasts and cupped them with both hands. “Hmm, I don’t know.” I gave her a solemn look. “I might need to look at these more closely.”

She crunched the toast. Crumbs drifted down her chin and I wiped them away with my finger. “You’re very sticky, Ms. Cartwright.”

“I don’t want to get crumbs in the bed. What will Mrs. Pearce think?”

I dipped my head and closed my mouth around one nipple. She whimpered, and the little bud swelled immediately. I released it with a pop and looked up at her. “Mrs. P will think I’ve been eating toast in bed.” I sucked on the other nipple and felt her tremble. “But I think it’s time I got you clean again.”

Her breathing was ragged. “Another bath?”

I pretended to think about it. “Nope. Let’s shower.”

She lurked in the doorway as I fired up the walk-in shower. “I haven’t done this before.” A pink stain colored her cheeks.

“Wow, you haven’t showered before?”

“You know what I mean.” Still shy, her arms were wrapped around herself. “Isn’t it going to be a tight fit?”

“Oh yes.” I held out my hand and coaxed her into the cubicle, closing the glass door behind her. Making sure Anita stood under the flow of water, I squeezed in behind her, my arms circled loosely around her waist. “It’s a very tight fit, sweetheart.” I trailed my lips down her throat and nuzzled at her shoulder. “Just like you.”

She moaned when I stroked between her legs and danced my fingers over her clit.

“What do you mean?”

She arched her back, grinding her gorgeous bum into me. Thank God I’d brought a condom, it’d be murder having to go back for one. I turned her to face me and sought her lips, still tasting of marmalade.

“Lift your leg.” I showed her how to drape it over my hip. “That’s it.” I slid one finger inside her and groaned. “You are so wet. This is going to be so good.” I fitted the condom and eased into position, nudging at her entrance. Warm water cascaded down, plastering her hair to her head. She gave me a brilliant smile and draped her arms round my neck.

“Like this?”

“Oh yeah.” I pushed inside, to the hilt in one smooth thrust, and she clenched around me.
Incredible
. “You feel fantastic.” I rocked into her and set a gentle rhythm, blown away by the look of ecstasy on her face. Minutes later, she moaned, her pussy gripping me like an iron fist. Ah, Jesus. She wasn’t far off.

“Jon,
Jon
, oh God,” her lips searched for mine and she came, convulsing around my cock and tipping me over the edge with her.

We kissed for a long time. I was reluctant to let her out of my sight, and incredibly frustrated at having to leave her for the better part of a week. “Come with us. Dad won’t mind.”

“Don’t be silly. You have work to do, and so do I.”

“When will I see you again?”

“When will you be back?”

“Saturday, I think. Maybe Friday, or it might be Sunday.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “So sometime this weekend, probably?”

I held her close. I didn’t want to let her go. Part of me worried that when she got back to her crazy house, that psycho Rottweiler would somehow turn her against me.

“I’ve got another horse show on Sunday, and I’ll be riding every night anyway. I’ll be too tired to do anything other than sleep and dream about you.”

We were out of time. We finished in the shower, dressed, and prepared to leave.

I tenderly kissed the palm of her hand and folded her fingers over it. She looked at me, delighted, and did the same. My knuckles were grazed and scuffed, hers were golden and smooth, her nails short and neatly trimmed. I tried to absorb every detail of her, kissed her one last time, and then sneaked her outside to the car.

Back home, I changed into riding things and headed out to the stables. I had a free afternoon ahead of me, and I intended to make the most of it. The school was busy, it was still the summer holidays, and Clare was delighted to see me. She snatched a five-minute break between classes and hauled me into the tack room to interrogate me.

“What on earth has been going on? Colette rang to say that Danny was ill; apparently he’s been hurt in a fight? Then she said you were ill too, but she couldn’t be sure, as you’d not come home yet.” She paused for breath and looked me up and down. “I must say, you don’t look very ill. A bit tired perhaps, but you’re absolutely glowing. You look like someone who’s been shagging all night.”

My red face and huge grin gave me away. She clutched my arm, her mouth an “O” of surprise.

“You have? With Jon?” She whooped in excitement. “I bet if I hadn’t seen you, you wouldn’t have told me. Come and sit down, and tell me everything.”

I took a deep breath. So much had happened since lunchtime yesterday. I’d last seen Clare when I dashed home to change before going to Oulton Park. God, was that only yesterday?

“Well?” Her red hair looked particularly wild at the moment. As I tried to gather my thoughts, she pulled off her hat and scratched her head, mussing her locks even further.

“I went to the race track, but was so late I missed Jon’s race. Then there was a mix-up with me getting in, and I went home without seeing him. He called round that evening, and that’s when they had the fight.”

“The fight? You mean Danny was fighting Jon?” Her voice rose several octaves, to finish in a squeak. She stared at me, astounded. “But why?” She thought quickly, you could almost see her brain whirring. “Really fighting? I mean, fists and stuff, not just shouting? Colette said he was hurt.”

“Yes, really fighting.” I shuddered at the memory. “I’ve no idea why, or who started it, but it was horrible. Colette threw a bowl of water over them—said they were like a pair of dogs.”

Despite herself, Clare giggled at the thought, and I joined in. “I don’t think he was particularly hurt—Jon had some awful bruises—so maybe it was just his pride that took the damage? Anyway, it was all too angry and fierce at home, so I went back to Jon’s house. And then”—I smiled happily, thinking of our passionate night—”I overslept and asked Colette to pass on a sick message from me.”

Clare narrowed her eyes as she looked at me. “If you were up early enough to ask Colette to pass on a message, you probably had plenty of time to get to work. Am I right?”

I shrugged, and grinned. “Maybe.”

She gave me a hug. “I’ve never seen you so happy. If Jon can make you smile like this all the time, then he’s all right by me.”

I squeezed her back. “The only problem is Danny hates Jon. And he’s making it really uncomfortable at home.”

“Danny’s just trying to look after you. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“You could be right.” I’d been thinking about this since leaving Jon. “I’m going to ask him tonight, what his problem is, and why he won’t accept I’m seeing Jon.”

Clare looked amused. “You can try. You know if Danny doesn’t want to say anything he’ll just blank you. Besides, won’t you be out with Jon again tonight?”

For the moment, I’d forgotten. “No, he had to go to London on business. He won’t be back until the weekend.”

“Oh, honey.” She gave me another bear hug. “Well in that case, allow me to distract you. I’ve got a plan for our training over the next two weeks, in the build up to Charrington.”

“Only two weeks to go.” I gazed at her. “Are we ready?”

“We will be.”

****

I had one quick call on the way home, to my doctor, where I’d managed to squeeze in a last minute appointment. Since I was hoping to sleep with Jon a whole lot more, I wanted to have a hand in our contraceptives. Rob had always bitched about using condoms and complained they made our sex worse. Well it was completely different with Jon, thank goodness, but if I could make it even better, it was worth trying.

I was home at six thirty and walked in to find Colette stirring several pans on the stove. She gave me a beaming smile. “There you are. Are you hungry? This will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Smells good, what is it?”

“Sausages with onion gravy and colcannon potatoes.”

“Colcannon. Isn’t that one of your Irish concoctions?”

“Yep. It’s also one of Danny’s favorites.”

I sat down for a moment. “How is he? And what mood is he in? I really need to talk to him.”

She turned round from the stove and wiped her hands on a tea towel. “He’s upstairs at the moment. He’s okay now, but he was rough this morning.”

“Did Jon hurt him?” I whispered, horrified.

Colette just snorted in amusement. “His ego got hurt I think, but apart from a black eye, he’s in working order. The half bottle of whisky is what nailed him.”

I stared.

“And as for his mood, well now he’s sobered up I think he feels a bit sheepish. Might be a good idea if you two sit down and talk about this. Before you run off with Jon again tonight.”

“I’ll be here tonight anyway, all week actually, as Jon’s had to go to London.” I watched her stir and prod the contents of the pans. “I’ll go and shower.”

I called to Danny, then when I heard him stomping down the stairs—that man didn’t do anything quietly—I served up the food. I turned to see him in the doorway, but paused. He stared at Anita with an expression I’d never seen on his face before. He looked defeated. Glancing past her, he gave me a weary smile, and then sat at the table. Anita didn’t say anything until we’d eaten, although she kept looking at his black eye.

I chattered to Danny, he commented on the food and acknowledged I’d made his favorites. Between us, we got through the meal without incident. Anita fiddled with her glass of water, then took a deep breath and faced Danny. I knew she hated conflict, so she’d obviously spent some time building up to this.

“Danny, I want to know what your problem is with Jon.” He tried to interrupt, but she held up a hand and carried on. “Whether you like him or not, I’m going to keep seeing him.” She hesitated, and looked him straight in the face. “It would make me happy if you liked him, but I can live with it if you don’t. Jon is important to me.”

I watched him closely. He flinched under her barrage, but sat quietly waiting his turn. He raised his eyebrows. “Can I speak now?”

She nodded.

He paused for a moment, and then held out a hand to her, across the table. “I want to apologize.”

Anita’s mouth dropped open, and I stared in astonishment. I’m not sure who was the most surprised. Danny just sat there, the picture of a humble man.

“Jon’s none of my business, and if he’s now your boyfriend, that’s entirely your call. I wouldn’t expect you to interfere with my love life.” He flicked me the briefest of glances, and then looked back at Anita. “I’m so sorry, love. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, you know that.”

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, but she finally found her tongue. “I don’t understand why you hate him so much. I want us all to be friends.”

Danny wiggled his hand on the table. I ached to hold it, but he wanted Anita. She slowly reached out and squeezed his fingers.

He favored her with a big, lazy smile. “That little scuffle we had, it was all a simple misunderstanding. I think we’d both had a few too many, and these things happen in the heat of the moment. I’m cool with you seeing Jon. I just want you to be happy.”

She beamed, and slipped out of her chair to give him a hug. With her eyes dancing, she smiled round the table. “Thank goodness that’s all sorted. I was dreading coming home tonight.”

I cleared the plates away and made coffee, half listening to Anita talking to Danny. This didn’t make a lot of sense. I appreciated Anita had known Danny almost all her life, while I’d only been on the scene for a year, but even so. She could be naïve. I’d seen the expression on Danny’s face when he fought against Jon—that was no misunderstanding. He’d been completely driven with only one thing on his mind: inflict as much pain and damage as possible. Unease flickered through me.

I also wondered if Danny would tell Anita about our developing relationship, or if while she was home, we’d have to pretend it wasn’t happening.

Anita disappeared upstairs, and I took the opportunity to give Danny a cuddle. “Do you fancy an early night tonight?”

His eyes flicked to the doorway. I could tell he was thinking about Anita, now coming back downstairs. “Maybe.”

It was the best I’d get. I’d have to make do.