And then we’d made slow, languid love – neither of us had anything left to prove so our time together had become something gradual and intense rather than pure raw need.
I loved the scent of her after sex.
She reached over me to put her wineglass aside; her breast brushed over me and I smiled to myself as my body responded to the touch of more of her skin on mine.
“I do like when you reach over me like that,” I murmured.
“Mm. I know. And I bet you like this too,” she breathed as she dropped her lips to my left nipple and slowly took it between them.
I shuddered. “Oh, you know I do,” I hissed, watching entranced as always as she danced the tip of her tongue on and around it.
She grinned. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to rest. Then I’m going to have you again, I think.”
“Tease,” I chuckled.
“Uh huh.”
She settled back in against me and shifted her thigh over mine as she snuggled in closer to me. “Beth got a distinction for English,” she said with a matter-of-fact smile. “Her first.”
“Oh! Oh my God, that’s great news!”
“It’s thanks to you and your patience. She works for you, not me. Stubborn little miss. She was so proud, Willa. God, I wish you could have been there, there was a light in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. It’s the first time she’s ever really believed in herself…”
“I’m so happy for her. I’m so happy she’s seen what she’s capable of with just a little focus. We’ll sort out her Geography and History as well, don’t fret.”
“I am so grateful for you, you know,” Sam breathed. “Ever since you came into my life things have been better. Everything’s better with you.”
“Well, Sam, it’s only fair. You’ve completely changed my life.”
“How so?” she said. She propped herself up on an elbow and stared down at me.
“Just… I’m full. For once. For once, it feels like I know where I… maybe… belong.”
She took a breath.
Then she froze as we heard the front door open and, shortly thereafter, slam closed.
“Samantha?” called a man’s voice.
Her pupils dilated; my heart went from zero to crackers in a second.
“Christ,” I whispered. “Is that…”
“It’s Mark. Fuck. Fuck! Where are our clothes?”
“In the bedroom,” I said, fighting down the hysterical urge to giggle.
“Fuck!” she swore again.
“Samantha? I know you’re home, your car’s outside. Where are you? And why the fuck are the lights off, I’m not a fucking moth!”
Sam struggled out of our nest of blankets and began to try to slink to the downstairs guest room where we’d abandoned our clothing shortly after arrival.
I covered my mouth to stifle myself; it was stupid, we were in deep pooh, and my instinctive response was to snigger at my lover’s attempt to sneak off somewhere.
The downstairs lights flicked on.
“Samantha!”
A tall greying man in a very well cut suit stalked around the corner and stopped, staring. I peeked out from behind the sofa and watched Sam as she straightened her shoulders and stared haughtily back at the newcomer.
“Samantha, what the fuck are you doing running around naked? Is there… is there a man here?”
“Strange that that’s your first assumption. No, Mark, there’s no man here,” she said, cold and level. “Just you.”
He seemed to miss the barb.
“Then… what on Earth are you…”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Manchester this week?”
“The event finished early. I decided to come home.”
“Why?” Sam said. “Surely Melanie’s going to be disappointed?”
He stiffened; his face reddened.
I watched him clench his jaw.
“Yes, I know about Melanie,” she said. “And Clara. And… Josie, was it? Pretty names. How many other pretty names have there been over the years, Mark?”
“You spiteful little…” he began.
“What?” she interrupted him. “Bitch? Whore? Cunt? Which name was it going to be this time, Mark? Lets go for cunt; you are after all so very familiar with them.”
She crossed her arms and stood, waiting as he gaped at her.
“Do you know what used to hurt the most?” she said. “What used to hurt the most was when I thought it was me that did this. That I’d chased you away. That I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“Samantha, I am not prepared to have this conversation…”
“Oh! I’m so sorry! Did my existence momentarily inconvenience your schedule? It’s too bad, because this conversation is happening now – whether you want it to or not.”
I watched her, awed by the sharp steel edge in her voice.
“Are you drunk?” he demanded.
She lifted her chin, incensed. “Are you really going to try to insult and weasel your way out of this by attacking me, Mark? Why not just admit to it. Admit to all the girls you were fucking on the side! Save us both the trouble. Be a man, for once in your sorry little life!”
He advanced on her in a manner I did not like at all, and leaned over her, clenching his fists.
I watched her face go pale, watched her hunch her shoulders slightly…
“Hey!” I shouted as I scrambled to my feet.
They both jerked and swung to face me; Sam shook her head frantically and mouthed “No!”.
I ignored her, and tried to clasp the blanket around myself to preserve a bit of modesty.
“Who in blazes are you?” he demanded as he stared at me.
“The witness who’s watching you try to intimidate your wife,” I retorted.
“Are you fucking serious? Are you… are you fucking this woman!” he shouted at Sam. “In my house? Under my roof?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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