Untaming Lily Wilde (15 page)

Lily pulled herself up and strode past Tom, who straightened himself out and grabbed hold of the diary, just as Lily opened the door.

Seb was already on high alert. His jaw clenched the moment his eyes met Lily’s, and he immediately turned to Tom, setting him in his sites.

"Tom was just leaving," she said, dully.

Tom attempted to side-step through the remaining gap of doorway. As he did so he pressed the diary against Seb's stomach, mumbling conspiratorially, "You should see the stuff she says about you, mate."

Wordlessly, without hesitation, Seb slammed his fist into Tom's face with a crack.

"Ah, fuck! You fucker! You've broken my fucking nose!" Tom hollered, staring down at his bloodied hands in disbelief.

Seb's eyes said it all. Push me, go on, see how far I'll go. And Tom, with his last reserves of common sense, backed into the hall, cussing, and skulked out through the fire escape, just as a young giggling couple, engulfed in cannabis fumes, made their way back inside. They looked warily at Seb, and disappeared into flat eleven. Seb closed the door, and lent against it, eyes blazing, breathing hard.

"Tell me honestly. Did I just overstep the mark or do I need to jump down that fire escape and finish the job."

Lily shook her head. She stood in the hall, arms folded tight across her chest, fighting back tears. Seb moved slowly, then held her gently as if she might break.

"Did he force himself on you?"

Her voice emerged, croaky and alien, "He tried. Maybe he would've stopped himself. It didn't get that far."

Seb tightened his protective hold on her and felt her wince with pain.

"Where'd he hurt you?"

Exhausted, Lily turned to inspect the torn shoulder of her favourite sweater. She eased it over her head and looked over her shoulder into the hall mirror, shivering in her cami. A long graze stretched across her tender, bruised shoulder, which was already starting to purple. Seb tensed.

"Lock up behind me. Make sure the latch is on,” he said, storming towards the door, looking about ready to kill.

"Don't. Please. Just don't." Lily's voice was weak, but her eyes begged him to listen.

Seb breathed heavy, closing his eyes a few seconds.

"So that was Tom, huh?"

"Uh-huh," she murmured. "That was Tom."

"Can we - I need to sit down a minute," she said, motioning toward the kitchen. Then she caught sight of the lilies, still on the kitchen table next to the wine; an excruciating reminder of Tom in all his fucked up glory. "Urgh. No, not in here. Living room."

Seb sat tensed on the little sofa, with Lily curled up beside him; neither one of them talking. Soon, the need to comfort her seemed to over-ride his need to pummel Tom. Sighing, Seb pulled her into an embrace. It was only then, as Lily allowed herself some repose, that certain ugly, misshapen pennies started dropping into place. Mrs Ellington had a spare key… I didn’t tell her Tom had moved out - I didn’t think… and now he’s read my diary. He’ll ruin everything.

“I’m sorry,” she said, staring into the middle-distance.

“What the hell for?”

Oh God, he really didn’t get it, did he?! “For what he’ll do. He’s pissed, and I’ve given him the perfect ammunition.”

Seb stroked her hair. “I’ll deal with Tom.”

Lily wasn’t sure in what sense this
dealing
was meant. What she did know was Tom was proud, and the blow to his nose would have been nothing compared to the blow to his ego. Which meant that, right now, he’d be itching for revenge.

She pulled herself upright, and looked Seb squarely in the eye.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve fucked it all up. I’ve really fucked up. He’s read my diary. I never should have - I just never thought anyone would read it. And he was manic - I’ve never seen him so out of control. God knows what he’ll do. What if he goes to the papers?! What if…”

“Easy, Lily, it’s OK. You’re in shock. He’s not going to do anything.”

“You don’t get it! Read it. I want you to read it, then you’ll know.”

This is it, she thought, this is rock bottom.
He’s going to read it, and whatever’s starting up between us will be over.
But he had to know. If she’d landed him centre-stage of a scandal, he deserved to know what he was up against. Against his protestations, she retrieved the diary and handed it to him.

“Please,” she insisted. “Go on, just read it. Then we’ll talk.”

Seb clearly had no interest whatsoever in reading her diary. He gave her a look of abject frustration, but as Lily faced him, arms folded, deadly serious, he must have seen he was fighting a losing battle. He opened the blue velveteen cover:
Jan 2nd, What on earth am I letting myself in for?…

While Seb read, Lily rearranged her kitchen. She binned the flowers and, after a momentary thought to her wastefulness, she binned the wine too. Then the anti-bac cleaner. Then her tights. She needed every bit of Tom gone; every last fingerprint. She filled a bucket with bleach and hot water, and she scrubbed every surface until her arms ached. Then she started on the bathroom. It was simultaneously cathartic and stress inducing. The more she cleaned, the more she needed to. First the rooms, then herself. She stripped off and scrubbed herself beneath the luke-warm shower until her fingertips had shriveled to prunes, and her soap dotted the plug hole in limp little blobs. Her shoulder stung like a burn.

When she finally came back to the living room, engulfed in a huge white towel, damp hair dripping down her shoulders, Seb was pacing. Holding his phone in a vice-like grip, he spoke coolly, but the taut muscles in his jaw gave the game away.

“I know. Fine. Yes, I know. I owe you one. Hang on a minute, Lily’s here,” he said, his frown evaporating. Then, muting his mobile, and beckoning her to him, “Don’t panic, I’m just talking things through with my lawyer. Nothing to worry about. Just a second… Grayson? You still there? Uh-huh. Yeah, I think so. OK, fine. Talk to you in the morning.”

Seb put his phone on the mantelpiece and wrapped his arms around Lily, holding her as gently as possible, careful not to touch her raw shoulder.

“You’re not mad at me then?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Jesus. Of course I’m not mad at you. That stuff doesn’t matter. I’ll sort it. You didn’t name any of our guests, which keeps things relatively simple. Let me worry about the rest.”

"I called you an a-hole control freak."

"I liked that part,” he said, running his fingers into her hair, then stroking a thumb against her lips. “Look - just tell me what to do, Lily. I'm struggling here. It's all I can do not to hunt down that piece of shit. So you tell me what to do and I'll do it. Anything. I'll even sit down and shut up if you tell me to.”

What I want, thought Lily, is the evening we were meant to have before that rat-bastard showed up.

Seb looked lost.

She could feel that all too familiar heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m OK,” she said. “I’m just - pissed off - I guess. I want to rewind a couple of hours, to the bit where you still wanted to seal the deal - as you put it - then we’d get in the cab, and I’d tell the cabby to take us someplace else. Anywhere would have done. Anywhere dry, warm and psycho-free.”

Seb watched her tentatively. “The bit where I still wanted that? I still want it. Believe me. But I’d be a bigger shit than your ex if I still expected to have my way with you. Wouldn’t I? Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

“Because you are,” she said. “I want you to - you know - what you said - have your way. I think maybe I need you to. Here I am again, stressing over that arsehole - and I need to unwind. I need you to unwind me…”

Seb pulled her closer. His hands gripped her waist, then slid beneath her towel to stroke the soft flesh of her belly. He leaned in, kissing her with his velvet mouth, pushing her lips apart, nibbling them, teasing them, then pushing in further, massaging her tongue with his. His hands explored the smooth curves of her buttocks, and he pulled her close against the rock-hard bulge in his jeans.

His mouth drifted to her jaw, the nape of her neck, her ear lobe. “This may be a bad idea,” he murmured. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t hurt me.”

She slid her hands under his t-shirt, as he shrugged off his jacket.

“Slowly does it young lady. Hasn’t anyone told you yet? I’m an a-hole control freak in the bedroom.”

He pulled Lily’s towel loose and held her pressed naked against him.

“Lucky for me, we’re not in the bedroom,” she said, starting to unbuckle his belt.

Oh-so-gently, he kissed her shoulder, just above the broken skin, then, much to the dismay of Lily’s eager hands, he dropped to his knees, telling her, “Don’t move a muscle.”

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, then pushed his strong torso against her belly, arms wrapped around her, holding her just below her buttocks, his fingers achingly close to her sex. His stubble brushed her belly as he kissed her, working his way tantalizingly slowly down her pubic bone, then between her legs, then easing his middle finger, slowly, tentatively, inside her, circling her clit with his tongue. His moved in a slow pulse as his expert tongue seduced her clit with long gentle caresses, making her wetter, readier until her whole body tingled with sensation, longing for more. He read her reactions effortlessly, moving his finger more vigorously.

And just when Lily felt she might collapse, he drew out, gripped her waist and pulled her down onto her knees.

“You’re going on top, Lily Wilde. This may be a one-time-only deal due to unforeseen injury, so feel free to enjoy it,” he grinned. “But let’s get one thing straight - I’m still, most definitely, in the saddle.” Then before she could respond, he kissed her mouth passionately, jangling the buckle on his belt loose, and unbuttoning his jeans. Then pushing his jeans and boxers down to his knees, he pulled Lily against him, his naked cock pressing into her belly.

She leaned her face into his neck, feeling the line of his jaw, hard against her cheek, and inhaling that cinnamon-tobacco scent. Her breath was jagged, out of control, as she struggled with her retort, “We’ll - just - have to see - about that.”
Oh, sure - way to go. Could I sound any less convincing?!

“Back-chat. I like it. Keep going - let’s see how far it gets you,” he laughed, then pushing himself up onto his haunches, he reached for his jacket and pulled a condom from an inside pocket. He brought himself back down onto his knees, and handed her the packet. “Go ahead.”

“Fine.”
Does he know I’ve never done this? Oh shit, he probably will soon.
In all her eight years with Tom, they’d used condoms maybe twenty times tops. She’d already been on the pill before they got together, to regulate her crazy cycle. Though she’d asked Tom to wear a condom in those first couple of weeks, he soon persuaded her they’d be safe without. It’s not like I sleep around, he’d said. So he’d worn them at both the very beginning and the very end of their relationship; always insisting on doing the job himself. It had never been part of the foreplay; not that there’d ever been much of that. And when Seb had rubbered up the previous Saturday, she’d been a little tied up.

All fingers and thumbs, Lily fiddled with the packet.
He’s enjoying this - watching me flustered.

“Need some help with that?”

“No, thank you.”
Yes!
Finally the condom was free of it’s wrapper.
Now, which way round does this thing go.
Think, Lily.
Ah ha! Yes, that’s it - it kind of sits on top then you-”

“You might want to pinch the top,” he advised, barely masking his smile.

“Shush - I’m getting there.” She pinched the top -
thanks for the reminder
- then unfurled the condom down his length. “There!”
Oops- try to sound a little less pleased with yourself!

“Perfect,” he said, with perhaps - no definitely - a hint of amusement in his tone. “So - Want to try it for size?” He pulled her closer, both kneeling, drawing her onto him, his cock rubbing wet against her sex.

“Now - not that I have a problem with your shower-gel - but I’m missing that natural Lily smell…”

“O-
kay
…”

“Which means, I’m going to have to make you sweat.” He gripped her hips, easing her further onto him. Her breath lurched mid-gasp, and suddenly he was stretching her, filling her, deep and tight and hot as hell. She lent in, forcing his lips apart with hers. Gliding her tongue into his hot, sweet mouth, as he answered her need with his own. He held her in position, guiding her hips, moving her in a slow pulsing rhythm. The fabric of his jeans rubbed rough against her thighs, in stark contrast to the warm smoothness of his flesh. “Hold still,” he told her. Then reaching out, he grabbed his belt before announcing, “Y’know- it’s been a long day. I think I might have a lie down. But don’t mind me. Please continue.”

He adjusted himself underneath her so that she sat astride him while he lay back, a wry smile on his lips, apparently enjoying the view.

“Oh - and just in case you’re forgetting whose boss,” he said, circling the belt around her buttocks, clasping the ends in his hands, pulling her entire body forward with a quick yank, “- that ought to do the trick.” A jolt of animal lust shot through her.