Painted Faces (36 page)

“
Shut up and do it, you're killing me,” he mutters.

I oblige him, making sounds at the back of my throat as I suck him off. A minute or two later he comes right into my mouth. I know that a lot of girls like to swallow, well, I'm not one of them. As gracefully as I possibly can, I let it drip out of my mouth and onto the bed and then I hear Nicholas groaning.

“
Oh sweet Jesus,” he says in a low voice. “That has to be the sexiest thing I've ever seen.”

“
I thought men preferred it when girls swallowed.” I wipe my lips with the back of my hand, like the classy lady that I am.

“
I don't know, there's something erotic about you spitting it out like that.”

I laugh and slide up the bed to cuddle him. “We're going to have to call for the maid to come and change these sheets. I feel terrible now.”

“
Don't. I'll make sure to leave her a generous tip.”

“
Ever the gentleman,” I smile up at him and he runs his fingers over my lips.

“
Best blowjob ever,” he whispers.

“
Oh shut up.” I look away, embarrassed.

He grabs a hold of my chin and turns my face so that I meet his eyes. “I'm serious, Freda.”

I nod and grin. “Well okay then. I'm going to be feeling very smug with myself for at least the next fortnight.”

“
And so you should,” he says, fitting his palm around my neck and massaging it.

I cuddle him close and shut my eyes. We just lie there like that for the next hour, soaking up the feel of one another.

Black Outs and Shopping Carts

Nicholas' show that night goes off without a hitch. The venue ends up filling out nicely, perhaps because of all the effort we put in today out on the street doing promotion. The Polka Dot Twins show up just like they said they would, and towards the end of his set Nicholas calls them both up onto the stage to sing Tom Lehrer's “Masochism Tango” while he plays it on the piano.

I didn't even know he could play until tonight; he never mentioned that he could. Back home he's normally accompanied by The Wilting Willows, so there's no need for him to play himself.

Afterwards Nicholas gets changed and then we go with Bob and Bobby to the venue where they're doing their free show. For some reason they have a shopping cart with them and it's all decked out in cushions, with ribbons weaved through the metal bars.

Bobby hops into it and Bob pushes her along, like she's a baby in a pram. Since most of the streets in Edinburgh are cobblestoned, I really don't see the appeal. It looks like too much of a bumpy ride for my taste. I guess it's a little quirk they feel the need to maintain, so that people can say,
there go The Polka Dot Twins again with their modified shopping cart, the eccentric bastards.

About halfway through their gig, which is in the upstairs room of a tiny pub, the electricity cuts out. It's eleven o'clock at night, so the entire place goes pitch black. Nicholas and I are sitting close to the window, and when we look outside it appears that the entire street's electricity has gone. For a few seconds I experience what complete and total darkness feels like, and it's slightly thrilling. Then people begin taking out their phones to use as sources of light. I do the same since mine actually has a mini torch function.

“
Okay,” says Bob, shouting from the stage since his microphone clearly isn't going to work at the moment. “It looks like there's been a power outage. Everybody stay seated and I'll talk with the manager to see what's happening.”

He hops off the stage, illuminated by the accumulating light from the sea of mobile phones held by the people in the audience.

Nicholas puts his arm around my waist, holding me close in the dark. He's been more tactile than ever tonight, and throughout his whole show earlier he kept on seeking me out in the audience where I'd been sitting with Bob and Bobby, looking at me with a little secret smile. I still can't believe that what went down between us earlier today actually happened. It seems like a dream, a really, really good one.

We've been skirting around each other for weeks; I just never thought we'd actually get to where we are now. I thought we'd simply continue to tease one another with words and subtle touches for the rest of our sexual tension filled lives.

He presses his lips to the side of my mouth and moves his hand over my thigh, before pulling me over onto his lap. The people all around us chatter with nervous excitement.

What is it about power cuts that turns people into slightly more child-like versions of themselves? Suddenly you start getting ideas about breaking into sweet shops and stealing all of the candy.
Without electricity the alarms won't be working, and therefore we will never get caught, mwah ha ha
, the little devil on your shoulder urges you. It's funny how easily people will turn to law breaking when the fear of getting caught is removed.

Nicholas' hand moves beneath the hem of the calf length black dress I'm wearing. He hitches up the material and runs his hand between my legs. When he reaches my underwear he presses his fingers hard against me.

Breathing heavily, I whisper to him, “Stop it. The lights could come back on.”

He smiles with mischief. “That's kind of the point.”

“
Don't,” I hiss, but he doesn't move his hand, and from the way his pressing fingers are making me feel, I don't want him to. Sparks and tingles consume me as I bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep from making any noises. His fingers move in a rhythm against me.

A blissfully anxious minute or two pass, then Bob returns to the room and announces to everyone that there has indeed been a city wide power outage and therefore the rest of the gig will have to be cancelled. By this point Nicholas has slipped his hand beneath the material of my knickers and I'm coming in waves against him. He takes my mouth in a lazy, wet kiss, his tongue caressing mine.

He pulls back and whispers, “Good girl.”

It feels like my body doesn't have any bones, and I can't think clearly enough to say anything in response. Did we really just do that in public? I've had a couple drinks tonight, but not
too
many. Perhaps I'm just drunk on Nicholas.

Bob and Bobby make their way over to us, and in the dim light I can see that Bobby has a litre bottle of vodka under one arm and her ukulele under the other.

“
We're going outside to have some fun in the dark before the power comes back on. Do you two want to join us?” asks Bob.

“
Sure,” Nicholas answers, pulling me up by the hand.

We go downstairs and head out through the pub. Bobby silently takes a swig of the vodka before handing it to me. I take a gulp and then hand it back to her. God, it burns good.

The girl rarely utters a word. It's like Bob does enough talking for the both of them because he never fucking shuts up. I mean, I think he's cool and all, but he could do with shutting his motor mouth every once in a while. He's currently going on and on to Nicholas about how he gets great vintage outfits off Ebay for cheap.

I walk side by side with Bobby, and it's kind of nice. We both know we're never going to see each other again after this one night, so we don't bother with any of the getting to know you girl chit chat. She repeats the pattern of taking a sip of straight vodka and then handing it to me. This is the last thing I can remember doing before I find myself drunk off my face, being pushed down one of Edinburgh's many steep, hilly streets in Bob and Bobby's cushioned shopping cart. Seriously, it's up a hill, down a hill almost everywhere you go here.

Bobby is pushing the cart, while Bob and Nicholas run along just behind us. I look straight ahead as we gain a little too much momentum. Why the hell did I agree to this? Although since I can't remember how I got into this situation it could very well have been me who suggested the whole thing. Vodka does strange things to my IQ.

We're going way too fast now, and all I can hear is the echoing laughter of the three people around me as I think,
I'm going to die in a shopping cart when it inevitably crashes into either a wall or an oncoming vehicle
.

I squeeze my eyes shut as one of my knees bashes off the metal. Ouch. That's going to leave a bruise. The cart is going too fast as we near the bottom of the hill and Bobby loses her grip on the handle bar. The wheels bump against some cobble stones, causing the cart to become airborne, and for a few heart stopping moments I am sailing through the air in the dark, hurtling towards a busy road that's lit up with the headlights of moving cars.

Before I can blink Nicholas has grabbed the end of the trolley with both of his strong hands and is swinging it around to stop me from crashing into a car. It bangs hard against the curb and comes to a painful stop. The cushions go flying and it seems like every part of my body is knocking against the cold metal. I'm going to be in a lot of pain in the morning, I think through my vodka soaked haze.

Nicholas and I stare at each other, our eyes connected like never before, and all I can think is that he looks positively furious with me and I fucking love this man. He just saved me from getting killed or severely injured because of my own drunken idiocy. And I love him.
Love
him. Oh God.

“
Fuck,” he swears.

“
You saved me,” I gasp.

“
You're drunk.”

“
So are you.”

“
Shut up, Fred. That was a stupid thing to do.” He's seething, seething like I've never seen him seethe before.

“
What? You were running along with me. I could hear you laughing with Bob and Bobby.”

“
I wasn't fucking laughing.
They
were laughing.
I
was shouting at Bobby to stop the cart.”

“
Oh.”