Chase (16 page)

‘Really? That I find hard to believe.’

My breathing’s slowing now as my brain gets back into gear. ‘I know,’ I say quietly. ‘But it’s true.’

There’s a few seconds’ pause, like he’s considering this. ‘OK, you can taste now. But keep your arms up.’

He shifts below me so I can reach and as my climax ripples away into a happy, golden glow I lunge forward and take him deep, over and over, reaching right down to his root, pulling away to lick and tease him and then plunging again, eager to bring him on before the choking starts.

I feel so proud of myself I lunge again and again and, sure enough, he can’t resist. He’s gripping my rear with both hands now, holding me fast to steady my balance. It’s easier now I’m impaled on him, feasting like he feasted on me, and all at once he pulls away and flips me over and surges up on top of me, his eyes burning down into mine.

‘I want to believe you, Ella. I really do.’ And as he stops my mouth with his own and surges up inside me our fight goes on hold, for a little while at least.

Keeping him sane is my favourite activity. Keen to avoid any more argument, I excel myself. And when we finally fall asleep I’m satisfied that for the next few hours he’ll be as sane as any man on the planet.

When we finally make it to Fenway Park for the long-awaited play-off with the Yankees and reunite with Billy and Eldon, the game is the last thing on my mind, despite our excellent seats being well down the stadium and Billy’s infectious excitement at having actually dragged us out to watch a game. Luckily the first half goes well. The scores stay pretty even, so no family feud has broken out yet, although I hate to think how this may end up should one side win.

Billy leans close to me. ‘What have you done to Darnley? He looks terrible.’

‘Does he?’ I glance at him in alarm. He’s further along the row, sharing some joke with his brother. At this angle the sunlight slants off his face. And now I notice his cheekbones seem sharper than usual, the hollows over his jaw a fraction deeper.

‘I guess he’s been busy lately. Billy, you remember those documents you brought to Camp Akela in the summer?’

She rolls her eyes. ‘Do I ever? What a nightmare. Lucky Darnley took it as well as he did. Eldon was so worried.’ She takes a generous bite out of her hotdog and then narrows her eyes. ‘Wait. You think Darnley’s still got issues?’

Here I must tread with care. There’s a lot about that incident that must never come out. While Eldon was closely affected by the revelations in the Kraik papers and Billy still talks him through it, the sheaf of documents she delivered to Lydia in the summer told only Lydia’s side of the story. The rest lies hidden. Or I thought it did – until this week.

‘It’s just … Billy, was there anything else in that box of papers? Did Lydia ever tell you what was there? Private emails, newspaper cuttings, anything like that?’

It’s a long shot. The whole ceremonial she made it into was an ordeal for everybody, me included. Nobody wants this stuff raked up all over again.

Billy’s sharp little eyes are thoughtful. ‘One thing puzzled me. Still does.’

My heart skips a beat. ‘So there
was
more?’

The players are getting into their places now. In seconds I’ll lose her. As the umpire walks out to restart the game and the cheers around us swell to a deafening roar she leans close to me, ignoring Eldon’s impatient tug on her arm.

She frowns. ‘It’s not that. It’s just, there was so much stuff. I mean, why?
Over
two people having a secret affair nobody knew about? It didn’t make sense.’

It’s funny how the closer you are to someone the less you see them.

Billy’s right. Darnley’s starting to look stressed. Little things, like the way the light slants off his face at sharper angles than before. Like the way he spends long hours on business – but alone, not striding about in front of me while he shaves in the mornings or pacing our room half-dressed at night so I can admire the goods. He shuts himself away like a sulky teen and emerges looking immaculate but gaunt.

So that incident in the balcony scene did shake him up, and badly.

He’s just hiding it.

And now I notice those phone calls. Maybe he had them before, but now I know what they’re about I seem to hear them all the time. From the odd remark I catch, they’re mostly from Aaron, but they all end the same way: Darnley slamming a door or clamming up in rigid silence. How many years has this been going on
?

I ache for him. But how can I help him if he won’t talk? When I ask him he just sighs and makes another call or throws down his phone and pulls me close and stops my mouth with his. Or looks deep into my eyes and warns me off.

‘Hey. Stay out of this. You’re the only place I feel sane.’

What follows is always intense and passionate and deeply satisfying, but he never actually answers the question.

Something’s wrong.

He wakes early like always but now I start to notice another change: he’s away all day and comes in late. When we actually get to eat together he’s moody and silent. I might still be living in Billy’s apartment, except I’m in a house as big as a palace, five miles out of the city and an awful lot more lonely.

Is this it? Has it tipped him over some edge?

He should see a shrink. He barely even sees me.

I’m busy at work. October wears on and the leaves start to turn. It’s a spectacular time in this part of the world and one of my favourite seasons, but with so much on my mind even the fall loses its charm.

And this business of Lola Forman and her boy
preys on me. How can I help them? I start to chase up theories of my own.

Billy’s revelation that there were other papers in that collection she delivered to Lydia has started me thinking. Suppose other children were affected? Not all kids like practical jokes. Some even freak at clowns. Maybe they’re still out there somewhere. But how can I find out?

I call Billy to fix a date for coffee somewhere near her office. Coffee’s fun but she’s oddly low. I learn she’s uneasy about Eldon’s so-called movie career and wishes he had a real job.

‘Trouble is, these artsy people are giving him ideas. He’s not Cecil B. de Mille, he’s just some amateur playing around on his dad’s allowance. Seriously, I’m thinking of giving him up.’ I’m shocked but I can see her point.

Cautiously I ask the money question I came for. ‘Any chance you could ask Aaron about those Kraik papers? Lydia must have opened them. And they won’t mind, surely? You being in the firm and practically family?’

She looks shocked. ‘I can’t do that. Anyway Aaron’s hardly ever in the office now he’s retired. And for why? Leave well alone, Ella. You want Eldon and Darnley to freak all over again?’

No dice. Another item for my to-do list.

As Halloween approaches I start quietly to panic. It seems Darnley’s family make a big thing of this. It’s their last get-together before Aaron and Lydia fly down to Florida for the winter. The party will be one of Lydia’s black-tie specials at the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Everybody will be there.

I’ve got nothing new to wear. Worse, Billy mentioned costumes.

I usually leave all this to Darnley but with him so preoccupied I’m getting nervous. Am I supposed to do it? And now it’s only days away. The month has slipped by. Today’s Wednesday. Halloween’s this coming Saturday. At this rate I’ll see him for barely six minutes before then.

Tonight he’s a no-show at dinner and now it’s getting late and he’s still at work. Better make this snappy. And if I’m interrupting something important I’d better look good …

I inspect my scanty wardrobe, still a studenty mix of ball gowns and jeans. Nothing’s quite right. I finger my short silk wrap, a slim, costly copy of the velour robe he sometimes wears. He had the Wolfe Security logo picked out in brilliants on one breast and my own initial embroidered in silver underneath. It has a long silky sash.

I try it with black stockings and my highest heels. Raunchy but casual. Perfect.

I peek round his door. He’s sitting with his legs thrust out, a hand over his eyes and he’s talking quietly into his phone in Spanish.

He’s been in here for hours. What’s going on? Things going badly? Some new launch? Cola?

I move silently across the floor and quietly place my hands over his eyes and then lean over the back of the chair to kiss his cheek. Instantly his hand lands on my arms, hauling me forward while he carries on talking. To my joy I catch a slight movement in his lap, something stirring.

As he talks on I wind one arm around his neck and slip the other into his shirt, where I loosen the top buttons and ease my fingers under the fine cotton. I search the springy mat of hair and come to his tiny nipple, graze it with my finger and thrill as it sharpens to a hard little nub. I pinch it gently and then move over and do the same to the other.

Bolder now, I nibble his earlobe and lean forward, reaching down to push under the edge of his waistband.

His breathing is getting uneven. From the tone of his voice I guess he’s winding up the call.

I start to pull my hand away. Instantly his fist clamps round my wrist.

‘Going somewhere?’

I kiss his earlobe. ‘I thought you’d be busy.’

‘I am. What do you want?’

His voice is low, almost a growl. I swallow.

‘Guess. Anyway, I hate to interrupt. Am I allowed?’

‘
Allowed?
You’re essential. And I want to see you. Get that delectable little ass round here.’ He drops the phone and captures my other arm, pinning me to his chest.

I kiss him again, breathing deep into his neck as I venture further down and now his erection fills my hand, hot, hard and silky. I slide my fingers all the way down his column and all the way up, thrilling to the hard ridge of muscle under the satin skin that stretches ever tighter as I fondle him. ‘Actually I came in to ask about Halloween.’

He’s breathing deep, his head arched back, his eyes closed. His hands are still clamped on my arms and his voice is low and stirring. ‘You want a full history of the festival from earliest times, or just the summary?’

I nip his earlobe in reproach and then gnaw it with my lip. ‘This party we’re invited to? Do I have to do anything …’

He releases one of my arms and hauls me round the chair and onto his lap. I toss back my hair and edge my robe open so my breasts push against the satin. The sudden gleam in his eyes sends a shiver through me so my nipples stiffen, pushing against the taut, silky fabric. He folds his hands at my waist and pulls me close, his erection jutting between us, hot and eager.

I slide the sash out of my belt loops, slipknot my wrists and then put my looped arms over his head and touch my lips to his mouth, teasing his lip with my tongue. ‘You’ve hardly eaten. You’ve hardly slept. Come and play.’

His eyes glitter as he parts my robe to reveal the treasures within, his fingers warm and firm as he exposes first one breast and then the other, pushing the satin away and letting it slip innocently off his thighs and down my sides in a silky midnight waterfall. His eyes burn into mine as he fingers my taut stocking-clad thighs, runs his fingernail along the top edge where it cuts into my soft flesh at the inner leg, and then eases his fingers up higher, to where I gape wide over his muscular thighs.

All at once he parts his legs. I gape even wider while he explores my openings. One hand slips round to knead and fondle me at the back. The other slides into my pulsing, swelling little folds, his fingertips sparking flickers of heat all through my groin. I can’t close, I can’t even clench, I’m splayed wide open, scared I’ll fall, helpless as sensation ripples down below and a climax starts to build.

‘Can I change the running order?’ His tone is harsh but we’re still on topic.

Maybe I’m getting somewhere. His hands move upwards now, exploring the dips and curves of my naked sides, his thumbs working along my ribcage, his touch sending ripples of heat through me.

‘Sure. What order do you want?’

‘Fun now. Then food. Then bed. Then more fun. Sound good?’

‘Sounds good. Am I keeping you from something important?’

He fastens on my mouth, his tongue a surge of heat and power that warns thrillingly that he’s nowhere near as tired as he looks. When he pulls away he fingers the tight satin binding my wrists with eager, lingering fingers. ‘Yes. You’re sitting on it. Get up and turn round.

‘I meant business-important.’ I grin as I shift position to straddle his lap, facing away from him. He guides me with firm, warm hands, keeping hold of me throughout like he’s unwilling to let me go.

‘I mean business too. Bend over.’ As he pushes me down he slips the sash looping my hands back over his head and leans back so my arms are stretched out behind me and straining upwards.

Now I’m bent double between his legs, my arms pulled back and my quivering rump fully exposed to the jutting column that butts against me, eager for entry.

‘Keep your legs straight. Open wider.’

His barked command is scary and now I’m in trouble. My position is almost impossible to hold for any length of time. My arms are already aching, and I’m burning up. My exposed places are swollen with need. I whimper as he runs his hand down the inside of my thigh, where my sensitive skin is newly alive to his touch.

‘Ella?’ His voice is deep, his breathing ragged now as he examines my rear end, his fingertips gently probing my hidden places. He’s hardly shifted position, reclining like a lord at his ease while I strain before him, my legs aching now.

‘It hurts. I can’t stay like this for long.’

‘Then we better get it over with.’ He chuckles as he seizes me by the hips and pulls me back onto him. His erection butts playfully at my rear places, teasing my undercarriage. I hear the rip of foil and seconds later he surges up inside me, filling me so full I cry out.

‘You OK?’ He pauses, his hands hot on my hips, his shaft deep in my belly. I can feel the seams of his flies jammed hard against my bottom and the rough edges of his upper zip on the soft, slick curve of my backside.

I laugh quietly as I haul in air. ‘Yes, yes. Don’t stop. It’s just it feels so
extreme
.’