Underneath (14 page)

Of course, Bettina gets four of the five sponges right in my face. She does a girlish twirl, like a ballerina on the top of a music box, and asks Niall and Joe if they want to join her for a quick coffee so they can tell her four of my secrets.

‘I know some too,’ says Joe. ‘If you buy me a penguin biscuit, I’ll tell.’

Seb releases me from the stocks. My hair and the top of my tee shirt are soaking but will be fine with a towel down and ten minutes of sunshine. As I reach for a towel, I fail to see Tyler run up out of nowhere. He picks up the hose pipe and turns it on Seb. ‘I dare, I dare’. Bettina goes to knock it out of his hands, which turns the hosepipe towards me and before I know it I am absolutely drenched from head to foot, but worse than that, the water is freezing, so I scream.

‘Tyler Southwell,’ shouts Mrs Sullivan. ‘What on earth is going on?’

‘They dared me, Miss.’ Tyler points to a group of giggling schoolchildren.

‘Do you do everything you’re told to do? I think your mother needs to take you home.’

Bettina looks horrified.

‘No need,’ I say shivering. ‘Boys will be boys. If all their parents stick a couple of quid in the tub, we can let him off.’

‘That’s very understanding of you,’ says Mrs Southwell. She then turns to Bettina. ‘I realise you are on a stall, but you also need to be responsible for your son.’

Bettina looks at the floor. ‘Of course, Mrs Sullivan. He can stay on the stall with me for the rest of the fair.’ She digs in her bag and brings out a five pound note. ‘That’s Tyler’s contribution. It can come out of his pocket money.’

‘Muuum, that’s not fair,’ Tyler harrumphs. She drags him over to her stall and her furious face leaves no doubt about the fact that Tyler will be lucky to be given any more pocket money this month.

At least she didn’t get any inside info on my life, I think.

Mrs Sullivan decides that the sponge stocks have been a success, but in the circumstances it’s time for them to finish. We can dry off, get changed and have a wander around the rest of the fair ourselves. I spied some delicious looking chocolate cupcakes on the cake stall earlier and hope there’s still one there with my name on it. Niall tells me he’ll find me in a bit and heads off with Joe. I grab my plastic Tesco bag, containing my changes of clothes, hairbrush, towels, hairdryer and spare plastic bags for the wet clothes (Monique would throw a fit but hey she isn’t here) and head into Seb’s classroom, which has been set up as our changing area. He follows me in.

‘Erm, excuse me. I need some privacy to get changed,’ I tell him.

He leans against the wall. ‘I don’t think you do. I think you’ll need some assistance getting out of those wet clothes,
and
I can help you dry off,’ he replies.

‘Seb, my husband and son are outside.’

His tongue wets his lip. ‘That makes it even more fun, don’t you think?’

I’m trying to pull my t-shirt over my head but it’s so wet it rolls up and gets stuck. I sigh in frustration. He comes over and helps me take it off. Struggling with a wet shirt isn’t exactly like the clothes ripping off scenes you get on TV, but my nipples visibly harden under my swimsuit. I flush. ‘It’s the cold.’

‘No it’s not, Lauren.’

I realise at this point that I can take my gear with me, go and find Niall and we can go home. There he’ll no doubt re-enact the sponge stocks in the garden with my kitchen sponges and state that whilst I’m wet I might as well let them have another turn. I inhale deeply. ‘Lock the door.’

‘I already have.’

He comes towards me and grabs my wrist, leading me towards the storage room at the back of the classroom. As his classroom is at the rear of the school we are unlikely to be seen anyway but it’s good that he’s thinking of things like that, my own sense seems to have disappeared. He pulls me into the cupboard where he strips his pyjama shirt off and throws it to the floor. I put my hand against his chest and feel the cold, damp skin underneath my fingers. I stroke around the head of the dragon, tracing my fingertips around the outline. I’ve never seen a tattoo up close, the black ink is like a trail of temptation, of darkness. Seb’s breathing intensifies. I move my hand to his cheek and touch his face. I can feel the beginnings of stubble. I pause and look at him. His eyes darken as his pupils dilate. I can still leave, I remind myself, but instead, I lean into him, raising myself up on tip toes and lick the side of his neck, he tastes of water and salt.

‘You started it this time,’ he says, his voice gruff.

‘And at any time, I may well end it,’ I say, trailing tiny kisses down his chin. He catches my mouth with a groan and his tongue is strong and insistent between my teeth. He helps me remove my leggings and they join his shirt on the floor. I stand in just my swimsuit. Seb’s eyes appraise me as he takes in the curve of my breasts, with their slight swell over the top of the swimsuit. He places his body oh so closely next to mine, and then his mouth is on mine again. My breathing is getting raspier and I can feel his heart beating against my chest. He drops the strap of my swimsuit and runs his hand over my breast, caressing an erect nipple. I arch my breast into his hand, savouring the touch. His other hand moves down my back, grabbing my ass and pulling me towards him.

‘Put your hand here,’ he moans, showing me the opening of his PJ bottoms, which had been fastened previously, but now give me a tantalising glimpse of what lays beneath.

I start to trail my hand over his stomach, touching the fine hair there, and move my hand lower.

My phone rings. Loud and shrill, playing the Star Wars theme tune, it reminds me that my son and husband are just outside. I leap for the phone whilst Seb tries to grab hold of me and keep me close to him.

I shake him off. ‘Hello?’

‘We’re done here and ready to go. We walked up this morning, so thought if you were nearly ready we could get a lift back with you?’ says Niall.

‘Yes, of course. I’ll just be a few moments. I’m just changing into some dry clothes.’

‘Don’t get too dry, I’ve promised Joe we’ll make our own sponge stocks at home.’

‘Yes, I thought you might.’

‘I’m allowed to be a little predictable at my age aren’t I?’ he laughs.

‘Of course. Well I’ll see you in a few.’ I end the call.

I daren’t look at Seb’s face. He comes over to me and lifts up my chin. ‘It doesn’t matter to me, Lauren. I just like spending time with you, though you’re driving me mad,’ he indicates the bulge in his trousers. He sighs, ‘Go on.’

I grab my things and leave to find my husband. As I get to the door he whispers,

‘I’ll contact you tonight, on Facebook.’

‘Please don’t,’ I say. My eyes beg him not to, before I close the door behind me.

I ruminate all afternoon. I can’t believe what I did. I feel guilty, yet it was exhilarating to be that naughty and abandoned. Why can’t it still be like this with Niall? After re-enacting the sponge stocks in the garden I go upstairs to shower. Niall comes in to use the loo.

I peer around the shower curtain. ‘What’s Joe doing?’

‘Building a Lego train we got at the fair.’

‘Well, come and get in here.’

He looks at me. ‘I’ll get wet.’

‘That’s the idea, idiot. Come on. Let’s have a quickie whilst Joe’s busy.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Lauren. What if he comes up?’

‘He won’t. Once he’s in Lego world he’s lost for ages.’

‘It’s not very responsible though, having sex whilst our child is downstairs. Maybe later eh?’ He slaps my wet bottom. ‘Damn, I’ve got my bloody sleeve wet now.’

He walks out. I am left frustrated. I close my eyes and feel the force of the shower on my shoulders, waiting for it to work on my muscles and release the tension. It doesn’t work, so I pad out of the shower, trailing wet footsteps and droplets everywhere, and reach into the back of the wardrobe. Returning to the shower, I switch on the bullet vibrator and place it between my legs. I lean against the tiled wall of the shower, remembering and repeating Seb’s touch of my breasts, imagining he’s here and we didn’t stop. I run the bullet over my clitoris again and again imagining it’s his fingers until I come in a delicious wave, the tension leaves my body instantly. I sit down in the bath and let the shower wash over me.

The temptation that night proves too great and I log into Facebook and click on our group. The green button indicates Seb is online.

‘I’m here.’ I type.

‘I’m pleased.’

‘I shouldn’t be though.’

‘Why are you then?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I want to finish what we started.’

I feel between my legs get slick again, and the pull from earlier returns.

‘I can’t do that.’

‘Look, if it’s virtual, it can’t count right?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Imagine what we were doing before your phone rang.’

It doesn’t take me much to imagine it. I’ve thought of little else all day. I’m brimming with lust again.

‘My hand is on my cock and I’m pretending it’s yours. Tell me what you were going to do.’

‘I can’t do this.’

‘Your hand’s here, I can feel it. Oh, God, tell me what you want.’

My mouth is dry. I need to decide whether to turn off the computer or stay. I close my eyes for a second and breathe. All it does is make me focus on the heat in my core. I begin to type. ‘I trail my hand down your stomach and dip below the waistline of your bottoms. I grasp you within my hand. You feel cool to the touch but I move my hand around and your cock soon warms up and gets hard.’ I feel silly typing for a minute.

‘Good. Now I have moved my hand from your breast. I’m sliding it down your stomach, below your navel and it is going inside your knickers.’

My embarrassment wears off quickly. I feel myself getting ever more slippery between my legs and my breathing gets faster. I move my hand exactly as he says.

‘Now imagine I’m touching you there, stroking you, first quickly and then slowly until you are begging for release.’

I can barely type. ‘God, yes, and I’m pumping your cock with my fist. You want to fuck me but I won’t let you. You have to come in my hand.’

‘Christ, Lauren.’

‘I need to finish.’

‘Me too. Now think of this afternoon and how we could have ended it. See you soon.’

I lean against the bed and imagine that indeed my hand is his hand, that this is a continuation of the earlier afternoon and that he’s stroking my breasts while bringing me to a climax. I rub myself faster and faster, until I feel the pressure building and I come in a fierce explosion all over my fingers.

I quickly switch off the page and lay back against the bed feeling sated.

When Niall comes to bed at two in the morning, he disturbs me. I cuddle into his back which he welcomes, holding on to my arm that I’ve wrapped around him. Now feeling guilty, I move my hand down to his stomach, but he grabs it and tells me he’s tired. I move away sitting up in bed, tears in my eyes. ‘What’s going on Niall? You’re constantly turning me down.’

He huffs like I’m being a nuisance. ‘I’ve just got a few things on my mind at the moment.’

‘Well tell me about them for goodness sake, because I can’t go on like this.’

He sits up. ‘I was thinking about seeing the doctor about a vasectomy.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

‘I really don’t want any more kids, Lauren. I love Joe to bits, but I feel too old to start again.’

‘That’s fine with me, Niall.’

‘Really? You’re still only young. I thought you might end up wanting another.’

‘Really,’ I say. ‘We’ve discussed this before. Joe’s nine. I’d have changed my mind before now don’t you think?’

He sniffs. ‘One of the guys at work’s wife has just got pregnant. Claims it’s an accident, but he’s not so sure. They’re both in their early forties. He reckons she’s had a last minute panic attack about getting older. I’ve been worrying about accidents and ending up in the smelly nappy zone again. I’m just too old. I feel settled, Lauren. I like how we are.’

‘I said it’s fine. Arrange the vasectomy. I have enough with Joe. He’s perfect.’

‘Oh thank God.’ He exhales deeply. ‘That’s such a weight off my mind. Now Monique’s pregnant I thought you might get the idea of pushing prams together.’

‘Do you know, I just can’t imagine Monique with a baby.’

‘Me neither.’ He pats my arm and turns over. In seconds he is asleep. I stay awake most of the night.

Chapter 12

The post school run finds me in a quandary. I’m supposed to be meeting Monique as usual, but Niall has woken in a happy mood and wants us to spend the morning together as he’s on a late shift. I don’t want to ruin Niall’s good mood when he seems genuinely upbeat for the first time all month, and maybe if we spend more time together I’ll stop my stupid behaviour with Seb. As I’m not due to meet Monique until ten-thirty this morning anyway, I delay telling Niall I’m going out, put the kettle on and begin to fix us breakfast. I hope he’ll understand that I still need to see her though.