Substitute (22 page)

Pulled up hard against him, she could feel his erection pressing against her. She’d seen him naked, seen him relaxed, she knew that fully hard he would be much bigger than she was used to. The thought scared and thrilled her in equal measure.

Alexia wasn’t prepared for the urgency of his need. Tony had thrilled her, Richard had cajoled and relaxed her, but this – this was different. This was more than primal, this was … She didn’t know what it was; there were no words for it, no name. She just knew that she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything. Not just his kiss, but all of him.

Deep inside her she could feel a thumping pulse, but it wasn’t in her veins, in her throat or her cunt. It was all over her, it
was
her.

She wanted to beg him; she wanted to look in his eyes and beg him to fuck her, right there in the changing room. Was he going to? Where was this kiss going?

But she couldn’t see his eyes. His head was buried in her neck, biting and sucking at her skin as his hand traced up her ribcage and cupped her breast. She felt a moan escape from her. Her clothes were too tight, too restricting; she wanted to be free of them, she wanted to feel his hands on her skin.

His mouth was back on hers. She bit his lip, just a nip, but it seemed to press a booster rocket somewhere inside him and she felt his fingers close tighter.

Her nipples were peaking against the lace of her bra; she felt the wires dig into her as she breathed heavily, her breasts swelling to meet his hand.

He was trying to undo her buttons with one hand, but they were unyielding, and they wouldn’t come loose.

Suddenly he stood back and turned her around so she faced away from him. She had come out of her heels, and he was so much taller than her. She felt her feet leave the floor as he picked her up and stood her on a low trunk. He was behind her and only a head taller now, looking down over her right shoulder. His arms came around her and she dropped her eyes to see him slowly undoing her buttons. She could see her own fast breathing as the mounds of her breasts rose and shivered in anticipation.

She felt her pussy, flooding with juices, needy, nagging, gnawing, and she knew that at any moment his fingers would touch her straining nipples and she would feel that bolt of fire down to her clit.

The buttons were all undone now, and his fingers traced up her stomach, up her breastbone, so slowly, so agonisingly slowly. She watched them as they inched their way higher. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as she watched their progress, willing them to move with more urgency.

Finally his hands were under her breasts, cupping them, feeling the weight of them. She moaned as his fingers moved higher, circling around the side of her breasts to come down over the top of the fabric.

Millimetre by millimetre he peeled down the fabric to expose the pink tips. She had never really looked at herself so fully before. She marvelled at how proud her nipples stood, quivering, hard. Then he ran the tips of his fingers over them. It was just a fleeting touch, but it sent her head backwards. She closed her eyes tightly as she leant back against him, pushing her breasts out further. More, more, she wanted more.

Her head was dropped to one side, exposing the tender flesh between neck and shoulder. He bent his head, tracing his tongue then his teeth over it as his fingers played her nipples, stroking and teasing. As she moaned again she felt his fingers expertly pinch and she gasped this time.

She pushed her arms back and felt his thighs, the muscles tight and hard. She wanted to reach up and touch his cock but it would be impossible, his arms had hers pinned as he massaged and played with her. She could feel his erection pressing against her lower back, and she wanted it so badly, wanted to plunge her hand into his clothing and grasp it, guide it to where she needed to feel it, inside her, in the depths of her.

She felt like she was sinking, falling, drowning. Could this be happening? Was she really standing here, almost stripped to the waist with the man she once could only dream of having, kissing her, touching her? Her mind was whirling. Was he going to take her, would he take her here? They were in a changing room; there were still people in the function room. But she didn’t care. Here. Now. Please, now.

His hands were moving down. She opened her eyes to follow their progress as she saw his right hand trace down her middle, his left hand still on her nipple. She stretched up, elongating her body. His fingers were expert, playing her like a musical instrument.

She sucked her stomach in to leave a gap in her waistband, so that his hand could find its way to its destination. He slipped it down under her skirt and she felt the tips of his fingers lift her panties away from her skin.

Her legs were quivering now, the anticipation almost too much to bear. It was too much and not enough. She felt the tips of his fingers make the lightest and briefest of traces along the tops of her curls.

She parted her legs; she wanted nothing between her cunt and his hand, and her clothes were already in the way. She felt his fingers move down, down towards her nub, but not quite.

She moaned, almost in pain. She wanted him to touch her, touch her there. But her clothes were too restraining. The tight skirt was hindering his progress; his hand could get no further.

With a groan of animal frustration he pulled his hand from her skirt. It was sudden and shocking. His other hand left her breast, then she felt his mouth withdraw from her neck, felt the absence of his warm breath.

She suddenly felt alone, half naked, standing on a box … Where was he? She had to wait only a second before his two strong hands were either side of her thighs, hiking up her skirt in one shocking move. She felt the air on her exposed thighs, the soft flesh at the top of her hold-ups.

She felt his breath on her neck again as he leant against her once more. His hands now traced along the tops of her stockings, up along her inner thighs, where legs meet pussy and flesh meets satin.

One finger snaked its way under the fabric of her panties. She could feel her juices coating it on its way. She felt as if her labia were quivering, as his finger made its way up her slit. It played around the entrance to her sex, curling, toying. It was torture, pure, blissful torture.

She turned her head backward to find his. She needed his kiss. He bent his head round and forward and she found his lips. She was kissing him hard now, ravishing his lips the way he had ravished hers. She was holding his thighs, leaning back hard against him as she tasted his tongue, and his finger wound its way around her pussy.

Then she felt his hand withdraw. No! She moaned the word and he caught her desperation. Then he pushed his whole hand down the front of her panties and she cried as his middle fingers shot down over her clit.

She thought she would come, right there, from one stroke over the yearning mass of nerve endings. Again he stroked and again. She felt the tension building, and he withdrew his hand.

‘Don’t stop. Nathan, please don’t stop!’ she was begging him. Tony had wanted her to beg and she’d stayed silent. But now, here, with Nathan, her tongue knew no boundaries. She had to have him. She was alive with need, completely and fiercely alive for the first time in her life.

‘Please …’

But something had changed. He stopped. His muscles were tight but completely still. She felt as if he had stopped breathing.

‘Nathan!’

She couldn’t see his face, he was behind her.

His voice was low, ragged. ‘No, we can’t. Not like this. This is …’

She held her breath. She heard the words “this is …” But this is …
what
? What was he going to say?

He pushed her forward so she was stranding straight and stepped away. ‘This is wrong!’

Alexia thought her legs would go out from under her. She wheeled around. He was facing away from her. She stepped off the box, unsure if her feet would be steady enough for a landing. But she was on the floor now in her stockinged feet. She was so small next to him. She pulled her skirt down, feeling suddenly naked.

‘Nathan, I don’t understand …’

‘I can’t. I’m sorry, Alexia, this is wrong. I’ve taken advantage of you. I’m sorry.’

‘No. Nathan, no …’

But his mind was clearly changed. His face was set as he turned to look at her.

‘I’m sorry …’

His hands moved, his mouth opened and shut. He didn’t know what to do, to say. He ran his hands through his hair. She had never seen him like this. He was always so in control, even when seducing her a moment ago he had been in control, but now?

‘Nathan …’

‘Please!’ The word exploded from him. It startled her. ‘Please don’t. Please …’

He turned away. ‘I’m sorry. You’ve picked the wrong man, Alexia.’

He moved to the door and grabbed the handle, but didn’t turn it. He was going to leave. Alexia watched him but couldn’t stop him. He was going to leave, to walk out of her life.

‘You deserve better,’ he said quietly. He turned the handle and then he was gone.

Alexia collapsed on the floor, tears of pain and hurt flowing down her cheeks. She pulled her blouse over her chest, suddenly feeling exposed and used. She felt cheap, much cheaper than Tony had made her feel. She’d opened herself up to Nathan, emotionally and physically, and he’d rejected her. It would have been better if he had told her he had no feelings for her. But to take her, to almost take her completely and then to disappear, it was more than she could bear.

She let all the emotion and misery weep and drain out of her until there was nothing left but emptiness, a howling, hollow emptiness. She sat on the cold, dark polished floor for what seemed like hours but must have been only minutes.

She heard a knock on the door. Panic hit her. She wasn’t supposed to be in here. At least with Nathan she had an all areas access pass, but she was alone. But what if it was Nathan? He might have come back, he might have reconsidered. For an instant, she felt hope rise.

‘Alexia! Alexia, are you in there?’ A woman’s voice. She felt the hope melt away.

‘Alexia?’ The door opened and Sonia stood there. Her expression of concern turned to shock when she saw Alexia on the floor.

‘Oh my God, are you all right?’

She helped Alexia to her feet and guided her to a sofa.

‘What happened? What did he say?’ Sonia saw her unbuttoned blouse. ‘Or should I say do?’

Alexia told her how she had confessed all to Nathan and looked at her blouse by way of explanation of what happened next.

Sonia didn’t speak.

‘He just stopped. No warning. He just kept saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” and “this is wrong”.’ Her eyes were pleading as she looked to the older woman for answers. ‘How could it be wrong? I don’t understand.’

She was crying again. Sonia put her arms around her. ‘I don’t know, darling, but he’s not cruel, he’s no Tony. This isn’t him. I really don’t know … There must be something …’

Sonia fell silent again, thinking hard. ‘Come on, we need to get you home. There’s a back entrance, you won’t have to see anyone. Come on.’

Sonia guided them through the corridors and safely out to where her car was waiting. The driver was polite and well trained, and paid no obvious attention to her companion’s emotional state.

The car sped its way across London. It was a long way from Wimbledon to Alexia’s humble flat and she was grateful to be sitting in the cushioned interior. The back of the car was womb-like, and Sonia held her hand like a mother. It was as comforting as anything could be for a girl with a broken heart.

They arrived at the flat and Sonia took her in. Romy was home and horrified at the state of her flatmate.

Sonia took Romy to one side. ‘She needs some sleep.

Romy smiled and leant in conspiratorially. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll give her a sleeping tablet, knock her out. It looks like that’s what she needs.’

‘See she takes it, she
has
to go to work tomorrow.’

‘But she can’t –’ said Romy.

‘She has to get back on that horse, believe me. If she doesn’t she’ll never get herself together. I have –’ Sonia hesitated for a moment ‘– someone to see this evening, but please trust me when I say Alexia has to go to work tomorrow.’

Romy nodded. Sonia was a woman who elicited trust in those she met. ‘Our other flatmate is away tonight, it’s just us, so … I’ll look after her, don’t worry.’

Sonia smiled and left.

Romy put her friend to bed, undressed her like a child, made her a large mug of cocoa, and dissolved the sleeping tablet into it.

Alexia lay in the darkened room feeling as if sleep would never be her companion again, but she was wrong. She slipped into blissful oblivion in moments.

Romy curled up next to her and slept with a comforting arm over her friend.

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning was the most excruciating of Alexia’s life. She thought it had been hard to walk out of Carter’s door, she thought that had taken all the courage she possessed, but it was no match for this particular morning. This morning was a cliff edge.

She wanted to stay in her room, her beautiful little room in green and blue. But Romy insisted.

‘Look, I’m back in the office today so you don’t have to see Nathan. Anyway, I just looked at the calendar on the company network. He’s booked a day off.’

‘He won’t be there?’ said Alexia.

‘No, I don’t know why. He doesn’t usually take days off with no notice …’

The idea hung in the air between them. Was it because of Alexia?

Romy busied Alexia so she wouldn’t have time to think about it. She hustled her out of the door and soon they were arriving at the offices of Fallon Sports Agency.

Alexia felt weak and insubstantial, as if the wind could blow her away with one strong gust. Her face was pale, giving her a more ethereal look than usual.

The office was buzzing. Alexia could hear mutterings and odd words: “fired”, “argument”, “Tony”. She strained to hear what the others were gossiping about, terrified to hear her own name. She wandered over to the group who were deep in speculation.

‘Have you heard?’ said one secretary. ‘Tony’s gone. Someone said Nathan fired him. Did something happen yesterday?’

She felt all eyes on her and the floor rippled under her feet. ‘I – I don’t know. Sorry, I didn’t really see much of Tony yesterday …’

The group were disappointed at her inability to shed light on what had transpired. They went back to their speculating. A wave of relief swept over Alexia and she left the office to make herself a coffee.

Standing in the kitchen reminded her of Tony, showing her how to use the coffee machine. It reminded her of how she had taken the cup to Nathan and found him half-naked, how she had gone to him and he had …

She almost dropped the cup as someone came in. She picked it up, all fingers and thumbs. She poured herself half a cup, not daring to fill it lest her trembling fingers spill the scalding liquid. She went back to her desk and drank, hoping the caffeine hit would steady her nerves.

The day past in agonising slowness; each glance at the clock showed only an incremental move towards the end of the day. Time seemed to have slowed down, drawing out her torment.

At 5 p.m. her mobile rang. It was Sonia. Alexia answered quietly. Sonia’s voice was firm. ‘Look, you have to believe everything is going to be OK …’

Alexia started to protest, but Sonia was insistent. ‘No, listen to me. It is going to be OK, I promise you. Do you understand?’

Alexia thought her friend was just bandaging, covering her wounds in love and concern to shield her from the long agony of trying to get over Nathan.

‘You’ll see,’ said Sonia.

Alexia didn’t really take in her words. The desk phone rang. ‘Sonia, sorry, I’m at work. I have to go.’

‘It’s going to be OK. You have to trust me!’

Sonia hung up and Alexia answered the desk phone. She heard the receptionist’s voice, ‘There’s a package here that’s got to be delivered to Chelsea, and it has to go now. You have to take it.’

‘What?’ said Alexia. ‘Why can’t it go by courier?’

‘It can’t. It’s going to a client and they want someone from the firm to bring it, so it has to be you, sorry.’

The receptionist hung up. Alexia looked at the big metal clock on the wall. It read 5.05 p.m.

She sighed heavily. If she had to go to Chelsea it would take her a very long time to get home again through the rush hour traffic, and it was Friday, the worst day of the week.

She texted Romy to warn her she’d be late home and grabbed her coat. She picked up the package and an envelope from the receptionist and went out to hail a cab. There was a spot nearby where cabs often waited in an impromptu rank. That rank had saved her the night she fled from the party, fled from Nathan after Tony and Phillipa’s boardroom rendezvous.

She walked up to the first taxi in line and gave the address she’d been handed in the sealed envelope. Clients were very secretive about their addresses, which was not surprising, thought Alexia, given the amount of attention she’d seen them get since she joined the firm.

The cab picked its way through London. Rush hour started at mid-afternoon on a Friday as tired commuters made their way out of the city for the weekend.

They all have somewhere to go, she thought, someone to go home to. She watched as they rushed on their way and she felt envious of them, envious of their lives. They had a sense of purpose, or so it seemed. Did she have a purpose? Not any more. She hugged herself, trying to ignore the hollowness inside her.

The cab driver was looking at her in the rear view mirror. ‘I’ve picked you up before, luv, haven’t I? Same place?’ She studied him. Was he the same cabbie who had driven her away from the agency that night? The night of the party?

‘That’s my spot when I haven’t got a fare, so if you work there I’ve probably picked you up,’ he said cheerily.

He didn’t remember; he just vaguely knew her face. Or was it that he knew her distressed face? Twice he’d picked her up, twice it had been when she was leaving Fallon’s and twice she’d been beside herself with misery and humiliation.

She smiled politely and put her head down. He understood. She was not a passenger who wanted to chat, and they settled back into silence.

After what seemed like an eternity of traffic lights and turnings, they pulled up at the address. It was a tall, beautiful townhouse. A bright white Georgian façade with shiny black railings. Alexia couldn’t imagine what it must cost to live here, in the chicest part of central London. But the agency’s clients were not acquainted with poverty. Quite the opposite.

‘Would you wait here, please? I’ve just got to deliver a package.’

The cabbie nodded and pulled up the handbrake. The meter, of course, was still running.

Alexia walked up the steps and pressed the bell. She wondered who lived here. She hoped it wasn’t one of the footballers from the hotel. She peered through the large bay window into a sitting room. It was beautiful and stylish, an old world style. It can’t be a footballer, she thought; far too tasteful, not enough bling.

She didn’t have time for more speculation as she heard footsteps approaching the door and a click as the lock was turned from inside. As the large, black door swung open she found herself open-mouthed as she looked at the person standing in the doorway. Nathan.

The world stopped. It actually seemed to stop. The traffic noise evaporated, the chill wind disappeared. The very air seemed to stand still.

He was there, standing right in front of her. Nathan. But he looked different. She had never seen this man who filled the doorframe before. This Nathan was new to her; this Nathan was – was what? She couldn’t work out what had changed.

‘Is that your cab?’ His voice floated towards her from somewhere in the distance. ‘Is it yours?’

‘What?’ One syllable was all she could manage.

He stepped past her and she caught a fleeting trace of his aftershave. Her senses came back to life: the traffic noise filled her ears; the wind found its shivery way through her coat; the world turned again.

She turned to see him pay off the cabbie and wave him on his way. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. He was more casual than she had ever seen him. And he seemed softer, easier within himself.

He took the three deep steps in easy strides. He was standing next to her now, looking down at her. Those dark blue eyes.

‘Please, come in.’ He extended an arm to usher her in before him.

She moved, obediently. He showed her into the sitting room. It was beautiful, stylish but comfortable, lived in. There was a smell in the air, a smell of him. He filled the house.

She saw pictures on the mantelpiece. A young army captain, his men, friends, a Labrador, an elderly couple smiling – his parents? No women, there were no pictures of girlfriends.

She turned to face him. He was standing still, looking at her.

‘Please, let me take your coat …’

‘I have this,’ said Alexia, holding up the package. It seemed such a silly thing to say. A reflex.

‘Ah yes.’ Nathan dropped his head. He ran his fingers through his hair. He took a deep breath. ‘Open it.’

Alexia was puzzled.

‘Please, open it,’ said Nathan again.

She looked down at the flat padded envelope. She tore open the top and fished inside. There was only one thing in it, a picture of a woman. Alexia studied her. Ash blonde hair, blue eyes, an ethereal face.

‘You look so much like her.’ Nathan’s voice was flat, emotionless.

She looked up at him. Was this her? The woman who broke his heart?

‘Her name was Helen. We’d been together for a few years, but if you added up all the time we were actually together, it probably only amounted to a couple of months. I was fast tracking through the army – special assignments,’ he said coyly. ‘I’d be away for months at a time, and sometimes I couldn’t contact her at all. Not easy for a woman.’

Nathan paused, thinking about his next words, ‘Then I got hit. The whole operation was shot to hell. We lost nine guys, it was …’ He looked down, unwilling to follow that thought. ‘Anyway, when I got back I was a mess, difficult. I thought she’d be there for me, but someone else had moved in on her and she was only too happy to go. You see, it turns out she didn’t want the real me, the broken, fallible, ordinary me … No, she wanted the glamorous soldier, the danger man in full dress uniform. Anything less was – I don’t know – boring.’

There was a long silence, an agonising silence. Alexia couldn’t move; she was afraid to breathe. Nathan was unburdening himself and she was afraid he would stop if she made the slightest noise or movement.

Nathan spoke again. ‘The crazy thing is I don’t think I really loved her – not truly. But somehow being betrayed when you’re at your lowest leaves an indelible mark.’

Alexia looked at him. She knew now what she had seen when Nathan opened the door. Vulnerability. She’d seem him without his body armour.

‘When I saw you in the office, the day you started, I thought for a moment …’ He stopped.

Alexia looked at the picture again. Then it hit her. She had the same colouring, the distinctive ash blonde hair falling in waves.

‘She was petite too,’ said Nathan. ‘Just like you.’

Alexia sank down onto the sofa, realisation hitting her.

‘Oh God, Nathan, you thought I was her. You wanted her, and that’s why you stopped. Because I’m not her.’

‘No!’ The vehemence of his denial shook her. With one bound he was on the floor in front of her, kneeling at her feet, looking up into her eyes.

‘No, you don’t understand. When I saw you my heart stopped for a minute, yes, and I took an interest in you because you were like her. But …’

Alexia searched his face. ‘But what?’

‘You’re not her. You’re not her, Alexia. I took an interest in you because you looked like her, and I kissed you, that first time when your ex showed up, but that’s not why …’

He was struggling, emotions clearly swirling and fighting in him as violently as they were in Alexia.

‘That’s not why I wanted you later, or why I was so angry in the hotel, when I thought you were with Tony.’

‘Why were you angry?’

‘Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You, Alexia, not her. You. You’re not her; you’re nothing like her …’

Alexia couldn’t believe what he was saying. She wanted to believe it, but she was still chained to that emotional rollercoaster, and she had been on so many highs, she was terrified of another low.

‘Nathan, I … Why did you stop?’

Nathan shut his eyes and sighed.

‘Why did you stop, Nathan? Why did you say it was wrong? Yesterday, in that changing room. Why did you start if you didn’t want – want to make love to me?’

‘Oh God, I did … I do!’

‘Then I don’t understand.’

‘I was terrified.’ Nathan gave a small, cynical laugh. ‘Comical, isn’t it? I can face Iraqi insurgents, but you? I was scared of the way you make me feel, and in that changing room … It was wrong. If we’re going to …’

He put his hands on hers. She felt the warmth of his skin, just the touch of his hand again. She wanted to cry.

‘If I’m going to have you, Alexia, it won’t be in some changing room where God knows how many people have torn each other’s clothes off.’

‘Do you want to have me?’ asked Alexia, praying for the right answer.

Nathan seemed to hold his breath for a moment. Then he was on her, kissing her, holding her head as his mouth searched hers. She thought that she had felt his passion yesterday, but it had been a shadowy imitation of what she felt from him now.

He pulled back from her and looked into her eyes.

‘Alexia …’

She could barely speak, her voice was small, but there was a question nagging at her. ‘What changed your mind?

Nathan laughed softly. He looked up at her from under his lashes, bashful almost.

‘Sonia,’ said Nathan.

Alexia couldn’t believe it. ‘Sonia? I don’t understand.’

‘She came here like one of the Furies and demanded to know why I was being such an idiot. She told me it was obvious to anyone with eyes how I felt about you. “Girls like that don’t come along every day, you stupid oaf, and it’s time you took a risk” were, I think, her exact words.’

Alexia couldn’t help herself. She laughed quietly.

‘What’s funny?’ said Nathan.

‘She said something pretty similar to me, though without the oaf bit.’

They laughed softly, then there was silence between them again. When Nathan spoke, his voice was quiet and sombre.

‘Alexia, I’m damaged but – I want to try, to try with you.’

‘I’ve never wanted anyone or anything more in my entire life,’ said Alexia.

She heard a low moan escape from him and suddenly she felt herself pushed back onto the sofa as his weight pressed down on her. He was kissing her with such raw intensity that she felt she would catch fire.

He picked her torso up, like a doll, and dragged off her coat. Alexia kicked off her shoes and lay back, watching him as he knelt on the sofa in front of her. His face was in front of her hips and he reached around her and pulled down the zip. She felt his hands grip her sides as he slid off her skirt to reveal black panties and hold-ups.